I'm sorry to break it to you, but I'm not a typical heroine. I swear and I lie. I binge eat and I binge watch. I say stupid things and I make mistakes. I fall for the wrong people and I don't let the right people in. I'm not perfect but, at the end of the day, I'm okay with that because I'm alive, and more importantly, I'm living.
Of course, I didn't always know this.
One Year Previous:
The strange thing with anxiety is that you know that it's irrational. You know that you are safe but you still feel the knot of panic rising in your chest. I felt that as I wiped down the sticky tables at The Horse and Boar Pub and my mind wandered to all the times I've fucked up in life. I mean, who cares about that one time, 5 years ago, I left the bathroom with toilet paper hanging from my skirt? Me apparently. And then you think of the future and your chest feels even tighter. My recital is next week. What if I fail? What if I disappoint my family? And then I'm crying. Snot dripping on the table and knuckles white from clutching the cleaning rag. I need to get out of here. Will I be fired if I just leave?
Get a grip Allie! I tell myself. You only have 10 minutes left of your shift and then you can go. There's a mess at table 6, some toddler threw food. Focus on that. Breathe. You're okay.
I leave exactly at 9pm, fumble with my bike lock for at least 5 minutes and cycle home. And when I'm riding, I can finally relax. Even when it starts raining, I'm fine. There's no pressure to talk to anyone, no pressure to pretend. And the burning in my legs, coldness of my fingertips and wind racketing through my body just helps me forget life, even if just for a little while.
YOU ARE READING
Joining the Dots
General Fiction"Life doesn't come gently, it hits you all at once. A tsunami of events." "Anxiety makes being a musician hard. Anxiety makes life hard. My passion, my dreams seem so far away. I could touch it all once, but once is distant now." "I want to be happy...
