The Quarter-Life Crisis of Anxiety


I think I’m past the point of simply wondering if I have anxiety.

It’s definitely a thing that I can confidently swallow the medicine and say that I have this unfortunate bully in the back of my mind that haunts me. It will most likely haunt me for the rest of my life. It’s almost like my own personal and super-fucking-unhelpful assistant I never asked for that follows me everywhere I go to tell me what I’m doing wrong or spitting ideas out like sick rap beats in the barbed wire tumbleweed that is my heavy brain. Do you think I let that asshole win and beat me down?



Let me elaborate on those sick rapper beats Lil’ Anxiety throws down because there is common misconception when it comes to anxiety I would happily clear the air. When I say ideas, I mean a wide range of good things to very bad things. No, it’s not telling me to go dig myself in a hole and hide from the world or go attack people. It’s not a little voice in my head that whispers terrible-somethings day in and day out. It’s more of a feeling that solidifies into incredibly terrible scenarios that, yes, may be happening but most likely are not occurring. And it’s different for everybody that has this terrible misunderstood sickness called Anxiety.

For me, it’s a wild but silent screaming or chanting idea that tells me that this greatness happening in my life will not last long. It tells me that these good times are a tease and that things are not good and will never be for me. It tells me that it will be around forever and it tells me it will be the only one that will ever stick around. Excuse me for the vastly overused analogy but, sometimes I believe that devil on my shoulder. It’s not quite wrong, either, and that’s what I hate most.

It’s not wrong because good things don’t last forever. Like everything on this planet: events, people, and emotions there is one thing in common. It all eventually passes. 

It’s how we deal with the acceptance and understanding of the permanency of that indiscriminate fact of our lives. Personally? I don’t deal well with permanent things that I have no power to change. It fuels the anxiety to a breaking point and then I collapse a little inside, thankfully realize where the fault in my emotional infrastructure lies, and find the strength and ability in rebuilding it back up with the things I can count on that is not my anxiety.

Anxiety is just as indiscriminate to it’s victim, but it definitely favors  targeting their peace and happiness.

Sometimes it’s hard to explain how anxiety works to some who haven’t experienced it in their own lives. It’s even harder to understand, and even frustrating at times, to try and understand it from someone an unaffected person is close with that houses that ghost.

For instance, there are at least six things I can name right off the top of my head that my anxiety ghost manifests itself inside and everyday life through me. I won’t bore you with all of them, but maybe at least two of them will suffice, for now.

1. Writing.

It’s been months since I’ve written anything. Even writing this post, I feel my brain straining to pull through the weeds and sort the endless cyclone that is my brain overthinking destructive scenarios and under-appreciating the scintillate parts that are my lifelines when things become dark.

Truthfully, I’ve been putting off writing this blog for a while because I was fearful. Fearful from not being a good writer. How about that shit? I psyche myself out from doing the one thing that defeats my anxiety. That sickness recognized its kryptonite and persisted in making sure to extinguish it. Like I said earlier, my anxiety was successful in making me believe in the hurtful words I told myself. What did it use as the weapon? The one thing I am most proud of in accomplishing; writing my first book, Cancel. Is it published? No. Will it be? Fuck yeah it will be. When? Who knows. And there’s where it stabbed first and let it mull over in my head until I was dizzy and exhausted fighting with it.

But here we are in this shiny silver-lining that is this blog, writing again for the first time in months even though I feel my anxiety curdling inside and screaming at me that none of this makes sense and it’s not good writing. The funny thing is that this blog was created by advice given to me before a close friend of mine passed and that’s what I forget about the most, unfortunately; what’s the worst thing that could happen? I could be the only one to read and the only one it would help. What’s the harm in self-help, though?

It’s not selfish and, if you are here today reading this, you need to know that the biggest weapon to help stifling your endless battle with this wicked sickness is accepting and realizing self-help and doing things for you is incredible medicine. Exercise it and incorporate it into your everyday life.

2. Love.

This piece of my anxiety is the darkest part. Its heavily rooted into the scars on my soul that I will never and could never forget.

I’ve briefly explained my love lives in past blog posts and how they each left their designated scars on me in some weight or another, but what I continuously fail to remind myself is that what is happening in the present isn’t what was.

And to admit it out in the open, that’s what I fail to remind myself of sometimes. When all the shitty things I’ve been through in my past tribulations in love and living, it comes to haunt me in my present happiness. It’s not fair, no, but it’s unfortunately something that comes with swift and stifling doubt and unlimited amounts of speculation that makes me ask questions that were only warranted by one thing; nothing that my current love life warrants, but the battles I’ve been through and the haunting scars I carry from it.

Anxiety eats this up the most. It’s like pre-workout for it, hyping its power up to the umpteenth degree, and letting it burn down my home on the inside of everything that makes me, me.

I don’t really think there is an appropriate ending to this post, because it’s something I will probably live with for the rest of my life. This is more of a warning to my personal demon, Anxiety.

I see you and I hear you, but know one thing;

You don’t get to keep me forever.

Song: So Here We Are by Gordi.

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