Snapshots of the conversations that are had between anxiety and I: the things we fight over, the discussions and debates we take part in and the struggle to reason with irrationality. Some of these are based on past events or reoccurring battles, some on more recent occasions, and some are simply extrapolations of experiences I’ve had.
Anxiety: Oh my god, what was that.
Me: Nothing, it was nothing.
Anxiety: Was that a wave of nausea?
Me: No, we’re fine.
Anxiety: Nope that was definitely a feeling of sickness. What if we throw up? In the middle of Starbucks.
Anxiety: There are so many people here, that would be so so bad, we can’t let that happen… do something!
Me: Just calm down.
Anxiety: We’re getting lightheaded.
Me: That’s because you’re not letting us breathe properly.
Anxiety: Maybe the food here is gone off, it’s probably food poisoning. We’re gonna vomit everywhere.
Me: …Everyone else looks okay.
Anxiety: Dizzy. Sick. Sweaty. We’ve definitely got something, can’t you feel it too?!
Me: Yeah, we’ve got you, silly. You cause all those things.
Anxiety: Hey, that’s mean! I don’t! I’m the one that keeps us safe, the least you could do is be grateful that I’m giving you warning we’re about to vomit. Maybe you could do something useful with that information, like get us out of here?
Me: I didn’t mean it in a mean way, just a factual way! Stop being so sensitive.
Me: Don’t give me the silent treatment.
Me: Look, I’m sorry.
Anxiety: Huh? What are you saying? I’m not really listening right now because I’m trying to focus on us not throwing up, in front of all these people, maybe it would be going better if you helped me.
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