I’m having an anxiety attack as I write this. It came out of no where, like most of them do. There was nothing to trigger this at all.
My day was a normal day, I worked a half at one job to cover for someone then came home to help my neighbors move into their new camper.
Matt and I went for lunch at China House and then went grocery shopping. Everything felt normal. I didn’t have any anxiety all day.
And then we get home and BAM it hits me. As I’m lying in bed. Trying to fix my phone thats been giving me shit the last week.
For some reason, when I’m having an anxiety attack, I don’t want to tell anyone when it’s happening. I just sit in my silence until it passes. This is a very mild version of what has happened in the past and for that I am grateful.
Maybe it’s the stress of always going-going-going?
Maybe its because we’re moving campsites and I’m scared to be closer to the “weekend” sites?
Maybe it’s the fact that it’s been raining all day.
Or maybe its because I realized how over weight I am.
Or maybe its none of those things. Its closer to feeling guilty about something. Like the fact that I’m resting instead of going to the gym (even though I still have a cracked rib). Or because I should be cleaning out my car, even though it’s raining.
Whatever the reason, I knew that I wanted to come on here and talk about it to see if it would help me. And it actually is.
The worst part about having an anxiety attack, aside from being deep in its throws, is afterwards I am exhausted. Its like running a marathon without leaving my bed.
I think I’ll nap now.