Music Box

There are times in my life when I hit a brick wall or get caught in a crossfire (of words), and my escapism takes hold. But my escapism comes in the form of music or literature. I can’t count how many times I’d had to lose myself with a certain playlist or get lost in a reality not of my own. I’m sure a lot of people do this as well.

I used to look to dance for escape. But it’s been so long since I’ve been inspired, that every attempt feels fake. I don’t dance when my heart isn’t in it. It doesn’t feel right that way. My mind keeps getting in the way.

The real reason of me posting this is to address something about me that not many people in my life are aware of. It’s not something I can easily reveal, for fear that I may be branded as a poser or a drama queen. It’s an issue I’ve only begun to accept, yet one I’m still trying to understand.

I am among the thousands who suffer from anxiety. I’ve always thought that my tendency to push people away was because I was an introvert. I figured that being this way was common, anyway. What I didn’t know was that not letting anyone in was hurting me instead of protecting my sense of privacy.

There are days when I just want to lie in bed and do nothing, feel nothing. Sometimes because I’m tired of the same old shit that happens on a daily basis. Sometimes because I’m afraid to face any sort of challenge I might have to deal with. Sometimes because I’m so sad, for whatever reason. I live my days trying to anticipate a tragedy in my mundane life. When something monumentally good happens, I always feel like it won’t last long, like there was some sort of mistake, or it’s only a preamble of a huge disaster. Some days I feel like I don’t deserve good things. I always prepare myself for the end, instead of savoring the present.

The anticipation messes me up. I try to surround myself with positive people who I know can pull me back up to the surface, to where my bubbly personality usually takes hold. But nowadays, it’s so rare to find me smiling and laughing with no care.

I may or may not be the worst case of anxiety out there, I’m aware. But I won’t deny it about myself anymore. I won’t stand to hear people say that it’s all in my head. Because frankly, yes, it is. I’m constantly stuck in here, going through a million dreadful scenarios in a split second. Which probably means that majority of the time, I am fully responsible for my own heartbreak.

Which is the total opposite of what others see in me. Some might say that I seem all put together, but I’m not entirely sure that I am. The only reason I give “good” advice, is because I’ve gone through so many negative thoughts in my head that I’ve always had to think of a solution for. And it’s also easier to address a problem when it’s not mine. Though, a lot of the time, I face the same issues. Those nights when insomnia is at its peak almost always ends with me in tears because of my own thoughts.

It’s a tiring cycle to try to break out of, and I fight it everyday. Some days are good, some days are like a tornado ripping through a landfill. But I take it one day at a time.

For those I’ve shared this with, you’re obviously important to me. So I hope you understand why I sometimes get in your face, in need of your attention. Sometimes I just need a breath of fresh air through random conversation. Most of the time, though, I just miss you. So thank you for putting up with me.

You have no idea how much you’ve touched my heart.