Vicious cycle of anxiety

Anxiety, what is it good for?
Absolutely nothing.

I used to think that anxiety was good for it.
It always kept me on the edge, always worrying, always thinking, and always exploring every single possible situation and its consequences.
I thought I was ahead of everyone else by thinking this way.
I thought that by having anxiety, I was going to accomplish more. Going to be more productive. Always prepared. Do better. Be better.
But I was wrong. I am wrong. And now I feel like there is no way out.

I see every situation play out in my mind.
I live up situations that will never happen.
I look at the worst possible situation and its consequences and passively think about it.
It distracts me.
I can’t think. I can’t get work done. All I can think of are all the negative things that are going to happen.
All the bad things that are going to come crashing down and I don’t be prepared.
I spend too much time making things up. Living in situations that won’t happen.
Living in my mind.
Living in my own worst nightmare.
Worst of all, it seems like it’s a choice I am actively making because it’s internal.
I feel like I am making myself live through this.
I try to stop, but I can’t.
Something pulls me back. It makes me feel worse.
Whenever I try to make it go away or get over it, it reminds me that I can’t. That I don’t want to. That I like feeling like this.

It makes me feel overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by everything.
Sometimes I wonder how I make it through everyday.
Sometimes nothing bothers me. Sometimes I forget that I feel this way. Sometimes I forget that I am me.
I try to do things without thinking about it. Without thinking so much into to overthink everything and to waste time, because it does me no good.
But instead, I think. I think about it for hours. The more I think about it, the more overwhelmed I get.
And then I fall into the rabbit hole. I feel trapped.
I feel worthless.
I feel hopeless.
I feel vulnerable.
I feel sad and I want to cry.
I breakdown.
And then I feel unproductive.
Then I think about all the time I have lost.
The time that I have lost due to myself and there is nothing I can do.
It happens every time.
I don’t want to reach out because everyone has so much more to important things to do.
Instead, I get irritated when people talk to me.
Irritated because I don’t know what to do.
Because they don’t know.
Because, I have already wasted so much time, and I feel like they’re here to waste more of my time, which I can’t afford.
I don’t need help.
I need to escape myself.
Only I can fix myself.

I try to pretend that it doesn’t affect me.
I try to seem effortless.
I try to seem like a perfectionist, instead.
But in reality, I’m just anxious.
Because anxiety won’t let me do anything unless I do everything.

So here I am.
I have fallen into my rabbit hole and I have become unproductive.
I’ve been avoiding my responsibilities because I feel that this feeling will go away when I don’t give into its demand.
But what is its demand? I don’t really know.
So I just pretend that nothing is wrong and I am happy and lazy.


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