Subject line: anxiety.

 

san luis obispo, california.

Sometimes I lay awake at night and I shake. My whole body, crumpled into a ball, quivers in fear. I lose control of my limbs; I lose the ability to form words and sentences. Hateful, terrible thoughts race through my mind like they are trying to see which one can destroy me the fastest.
”Worthless,” they say, “a worthless and unlovable, talentless dead end you are. You aren’t going to perservere, you can’t be successful and Love is never going to stay with a girl who can’t afford a cup of coffee.”

I reach out to tell Love I need him, to tell him I just need to be held, that I need to talk about it, that I need to be heard. I want to tell him that I have not always been this way. Once upon a time, I looked at my naked face in a mirror and saw beauty, courage, a girl that was going to change lives and help everyone. I used to be a pillar which could support a thousand aching hearts. I used to have a support system with deep roots, made up of people I love, people whose hearts were a reflection of my own. We understood each other, we fought for each other, we loved, lost, and stood by each other.

How do I tell the man I am completely, unbelievably in love with, the man I will spend the rest of my life with, that I feel completely alone. That this town feels like walking around in shoes two sizes too small, and back home is starting to look like my favorite slippers. That I shrivel every time I come home from another long shift, another 6 day work binge, and still can’t pay the bills. That I feel as though I cannot be myself here, that I don’t know how to tuck myself neatly into his life, and that sometimes I just wish I had a tiny space of my own to fuck up, to trip and fall and pick myself back up. That I don’t know how to somebody’s world, I don’t know how to be one half of a whole, and I don’t know if I can ever give of myself even half I’d the things he gives me everyday.

He wraps his body around mine, pulls my aching torso tightly against his. “Patience,” says Love, “it may not all be perfect now, and it may never be. But we are here, you are mine and I am yours, and you can change the world if you want too, you’ve already changed mine. Sleep baby, I cannot wait to wake up next to you in the morning.”

And then I remember, I don’t need to say everything, everytime. Because Love already knows, he has heard me say it a thousand times and he doesnt mind sharing my pain. He knows my anxiety and he is going to be there to pick me up every time I fall. And then he’ll slap my butt, and say, “let’s try again!,” because he wants to stay.

He wants to stay.