Pieces of Peace: My Anxiety is not Romantic

 

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My anxiety is not romantic. My anxiety is not a fetish you can bring into the bedroom.  Someone told you that someone with anxiety is a great lover.  You believe because of my constant need of validation that everything will be okay; I will pour my energy into our relationship.  You are sadly mistaken because I have no energy left to give.

It is not cute when I wake up in the morning. My alarm goes off and I hit snooze. What I do is this; I lay there on the bed feeling this heavy weight on my body.  I try to find the reason why until I’ve come up with a dozen conclusions on why I should get up. But instead, I lay there for an extra ten minutes because I am exhausted.

There are days I jolt up and my heart is racing. I have been thinking about the same problem from the night before and I hate myself that I haven’t found a solution. And even if I did, I probably woke up thinking my solution would just add to the problem. There are days I wake up crying because I have no idea what to do.

There are days I’d wake up three in the morning thinking about the context of a day old conversation.  Or worry about how I may not have enough money in my account until my head conjures up worse case scenarios. Until I’d start to sweat, my stomach churning, and my heart trying to beat out of my chest. There are nights I feel like the Tell Tale Heart because I hear a heartbeat in the room deafening me.

Though I should’ve just went back to sleep rather than keep myself up all night.  If I try to fall asleep all I do is fidget, toss, and turn. I’d think about every problem in my life, from point A to point Z. Only to find it coming back to me.  If it wasn’t for me I wouldn’t have anxiety. Yes, I know it does not make any sense.

Will you still find my anxiety cute when I get an anxiety attack? It feels like I’m choking on air, my heart is trying to beat out of my chest, and everything is hazy. Would you still find it cute when I walk through a crowd trying to steady my breathing? Or would you feel like you are saving me? It would be nice to have a shoulder to lean on. Someone to talk to about my frequent bursts of irrationality rather than hide it and pretend I am okay.

Darling, I need a friend, not a knight or a soldier. Better yet tell me that I should seek help. I do not want you to say that you want to fix me because I am not broken. I am sick, not a jigsaw puzzle.

So please, my anxiety is not a character trait. It is an illness. I need a doctor, not a lover. I am not broken.

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Pieces of Peace: “saviour of a toxic romance”

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In the long run, you’ll realize that there are a few relationships in life that’s not worth saving. Do not constantly remind yourself that you are in love. Or tell yourself that there is no one else in the world that will love and tolerate you because you’re only settling down with someone for the sake of not being alone.

It’s going to be hard but at some point you have to realize your relationship is dead. There’s no use staying when you are unhappy because if you do, it might turn toxic. Because there will always be someone whose pride is too big to admit the spark is gone and another who is trying to avoid any conflict.

To some extent you give yourself small reason on why you should stay though the number one reason would always be to avoid crippling loneliness so you might as well stay with the because let’s face it, you’re no good in being single. Why venture into the great world of tinder mismatches and awful blind dates? When you can live your life in benign mediocrity with someone who might not make you happy but can try to make you smile every once in a while?

But then again you end up in this stagnant state, where you try so hard to shake things up. Try so hard to feel something because let’s face it, you look at your significant other and wonder how you can tolerate each other for so long without any physical or psychological alteration. You are constantly reminding yourself that you SHOULD be happy with them regardless of any disappointment or resentment or grievances they may give you because you are both so stupidly and irreversibly in love with each other.  Well that’s what you tell yourself.

One will always go through great lengths to make it seem that the relationship is still alive. Most of the time it’s a one sided thing, a receiver and the most admirable giver of the situation. They’re the ones that give you little surprises, have photographic memory they use as leverage when giving you nostalgic gifts based on inside jokes and firsts.  They are the ones who would do anything to make you stay.

Then you’re there sitting around wondering why they do this. You feel as if they’re guilt tripping you for the things you forget, for the various things occupying your mind and for just lying there while they look like the hero of the romantic comedy, the saviour of romance.

Then you reach a high point or boiling point in the relationship, where one small insignificant detail can turn into a mess. You’re always irritable and they always seem to nag or look like they never listen to you. You find yourself getting mad more often than usual, even about the smallest of things.

To the point that being mad is the only emotion you can feel around them. The only way to show some sort of affection or passion is by screaming at the top of your lungs or at least make a sarcastic side comment about how YOU do most of the work in the relationship. Though you have to admit they make you smile every once in a while but you end up finding a reason to be mad at them. The worst part is you don’t see this as toxic but as a way to fight for your dying relationship, to prove that it’s still worth it.

You actually miss your Tinder mismatches because at least you can easily cut loose the stupid fools and move on to the next brainless horny bastard.

As you sit there waiting for the next argument, the next sweet surprise and wondering if physical intimacy will be the saving grace of your relationship, your mind wanders to what if situations you actually wish were true. You then realized how unfulfilled your life is, how discontented you are and then realize maybe your relationship isn’t worth it. There’s a growing resentment between the two of you that turned into the elephant in the room that you try so hard to avoid.

If you have to remind yourself that you’re happy and in love, you’re not really happy or in love, would you rather grow together knowing that you harbour strong and hateful feelings towards each other? Or would you rather escape the toxic environment both of you are creating?

Pick the second choice.

Bitter Damage

You taste like damage

Vodka and cigarettes

Mixed with bitter regrets

Your eyes are the shadows of my demons

But even they know better reasoning

At least they know the difference of falling

And having doubts of the truths you were lying

Your comfort is too delicate

As if you’ll break me with a single touch

You did that by building it up

Then knocking it down

Dear Whoever,

Dear whoever this song is dedicated to. Dear whoever this letter is addressing to and dear whoever will make sure that I will never stop loving them.

I’ve read a quote from this book saying that the moment you fall in love it feels like there is centuries behind it. Because how can you fit a big emotion into such short time? How can something that only seems like a second feel like an enormity? If there is such a thing as past lives then there has to be something written or unwritten between the two of you that made you perfectly intertwined. There has to be some sort of history behind it, history we don’t know but make it feel like our present and hopefully our future.

Maybe it’s not the same way with whoever it is this letter is for, but for me it feels like another repetition. I think I’ve written an essay or a letter with some sort of dedication to someone I am, in the moment, in love with. How in every sentence I mention how each of them are different and how I’ve never felt anything like it before. But the truth I seem to always forget is that I’ve felt it before, more than once. So it’s not really love just some delusion I set myself to believe. Because if it was love than I wouldn’t have mentioned how different it was or how I feel the universe wants us to be together. Whenever I say that i feel that I have to convince myself that it is something called “love” rather than feel it.

So dear whoever is reading this, I will not say that I feel like there is centuries behind us or that this is some deja vu feeling and this is not the first time I’ve met you. Because it will sound crazy and I’m just going through a never ending cycle.

Dear whoever you are, I am not going to say that I’m falling however I do feel a little shakey when you pass by. I am not going to say that I want you to feel the same even if this sounds negative I know nothing good will come out of high school expectations. I rather let you know that maybe there is some sort of feeling but I’m not quite sure if it has a name.

So maybe I have felt like this a thousand times before and it’s not like the repetition I always find myself to do. Maybe this is a deja vu, because if you don’t mean anything why am I still writing?

Dear whoever I hope you know that in this short moment an entirety has just passed.

Love Always,

X

My Essay i wrote in my Junior Year about Essays

During my junior year we had an assignment to write an essay about essays. Clever isn’t it? Well the idea not talking about my essay but the idea of writing an essay about essays. Okay that was too redundant.

I took long writing it because I didn’t understand what exactly I was writing, my first draft was a little too boring and the second draft made me want to rip anything in sight. But as they say third is the charm in my case it wasn’t because I exceeded a page too long, 2 pages was the maximum. So fourth was the charmer but I don’t know if it is good though I did get a good grade out of it. I decided to relate the forms of writing such as poems, stories and essays to designing clothes, I love fashion and I put it together with writing. Not that impressive but I got tired and I thought it was good enough, not just enough but good.

Words can be sewn together in different ways it could be like a ribbon tied with metaphors and rhymes making it a poem. It can be long with different patterns of stitching putting together a few loose ends then finally a grand finish making a beautiful story. An essay however is different it is not limited or as short as a poem and it does not exceed a hundred pages just to tell a simple story. It is not only entertaining to man.

“Out of his musings, his observations, his involvement with practically everything that surrounds him and to a certain extent, even with the verities beyond his easy grasp, evolves the essay, an attempt to portray and delineate and interpret life or its multifarious segments.” in the essay called “The Essay.” the writers tells about what is an essayist and what an essayist to write in his essay.

A writer is like a seamstress with delicate hands holding a pin and needle creating patterns, putting together different textures and colors of fabric to create a dress. An essayist is not limited when it comes to his creative process when writing an essay. He does not feel confided in his own work afraid to write his ideas and present them in any manner of his choosing. The essayist is fearless and open minded with his writings to persuade, to inspire and to educate its readers. Different essays have different motives for the readers to understand and make them think. If a poet gives you a soft tender touch in the heart, a story teller entertains your imagination and an essayist can do both.

However an essay can make people think, why do most prefer a long story than something as short as an essay can be? Why do other people prefer to read a love poem rather than a persuasive essay that can make them think? Why would other prefer to go through pages and pages and be caught in a web of plotlines? An essay is not condemned to any meter or rhyming scheme and is less cryptic as a poem can be yet others would prefer to indulge themselves in those very few lines. There are those who would cry their eyes red reading a whole book in one setting when an essay is just a few pages short.

An essay is not subjective to just love but the writer’s mood, observations and ideas or ramblings. People would prefer something that would keep them at ease when they read, the want entertainment something that can make them laugh and cry and relate to. An essay is either formal or informal, clearing out ideas or stating an idea. It can be funny and tearful but most would want a story behind it not just an idea of someone else. If an essay can make you think then why do not many read an essay to make them ponder and have their mind set open rather than limited? There is an answer and it is because most would want a story behind the lines rather than an idea.

Yet that is what makes an essay beautiful, it’s an idea or ideas that makes the brain ponder on as the eyes linger to every single word written on the simple piece of paper. It is not just a simple piece of literature to present its ideas to you; it gives you an idea and makes you re-think your own ideas making you a little more open minded. It does not aim to please its audience but to make its audience think and give them their ideas and how the can present in a creative manner to persuade them to agree to its ideas or at least consider them.

It’s different, the way a person writes an essay is different because an essayist can write whatever his mind can create and whatever mood suits him. It’s different because it does not let you get caught in a web of different storylines and a twisted plot and it simply does not please to entertain you. An essay is not as short and as heartwarming as poem can be and it is not as entertaining as a novel. However an essay is mind grabbing, inspiring and you can learn from complex ideas made simple.