Some days I feel as if there’s a whirlpool in my chest. You know the pulling of the water swirling down the drain when you empty the bath tub? That’s what anxiety feels like. It’s like this intense, deep puling feeling, right in your core.

There are days when I win. I take my medication and it works. I operate as a (fairly) normal person, hold down my steady job, cope with the tasks of showering and dressing myself, cooking dinner, keeping a clean home. These days usually coincide with good blood sugar levels (type 1 diabetic) and a decent night’s sleep (insomniac). They aren’t mutually exclusive, but usually if one of those ingredients is missing, the whole formula is wrong.

Then there are ‘those’ days.

You know the ones. Or maybe you don’t. I envy you if you’re free of anxiety.
It doesn’t respond to reason. It doesn’t respond to tough love, logic, pressure, expectation. It just is. A vortex. A whirlpool inside. Like a tornado ready to tear through anything in its path.

And you’re in the eye, helpless.

Last week I burst into tears while packing the dishwasher. Why? I don’t know. I just felt incredibly overwhelmed. By life, by my responsibility, by my frustrations, by my blood sugar levels, by my tiredness, I don’t know. All I know is that at that very moment, crying and walking away from the dishes was all I could do not to collapse.

I wish I could say these days are almost behind me, but I know they will be there my whole life on this earth. I am deeply thankful for what I have, but anxiety knows no gratitude. It only knows panic and fear.

I don’t really have a point to this. I just need to get it off my chest. Today I feel irritable with no reason. It’s Easter Sunday, I am reminded of my Saviour’s love for me, and still, I feel irritable. Inching for a fight, even. Why? I don’t know.

It’s all part of the vortex in my chest. Some days I win. Other days it does. Either way it never plays fair.


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