Anxious Days Letter for Pausing and Breathing

It starts in your stomach.

A tightness. A murmur of unease that you can't quite trace the origins of. It sits beside you; watching, and replaying that embarrassing thing you did seven years ago at exactly the wrong moment. Old conversations repeating over and over in your head.

You are, understandably, exhausted.

A Letter for Anxiety was written for the moments when your thoughts won't slow down and your body won't let you forget it. It's meant to be read slowly, like a friend's hand on you shoulder, offering reassurance without a to-do list or a not-at-all-helpful reminder to "calm down".

It is not going to fix you, because you don't need fixing. There is nothing wrong with you, and feeling anxious is not your fault.

What it will do is sit with you, holding your hand, whilst reminding you that you are safe right now, in this moment. Your thoughts aren't always telling the truth, and that your body is doing its best to protect you, even when it's being a little dramatic about it.

It won't push you to be brave. It won't ask you to look on the bright side. Instead, it will give you permission to stop. To unclench your jaw. To breathe yourself back into your body, gently and without pressure.

Anxiety doesn't mean you're weak. It means you're human, and your body is fighting to keep you safe. 

Take a breath. You're still here. You are going to be okay.