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Anxiety is easy.

​I’ve been hearing more people talk about mental illness & that makes me really happy. You see, so many people that don’t have it/have never experienced it, are incredibly misinformed. They think that simply because someone takes medicine or has to go to therapy, or lives their life a little differenty…it somehow makes them a “lesser” person. That they lack some of the things that a “normal’ person needs to thrive in life.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
& those who do suffer find they’re incredibly misunderstood (they are) & fear sharing their struggles because of the weird looks they’ll get (Oh, do they get them), or the friendships & relationships that may shift(I’ve lost a bunch back when it was the hardest). Or job opportunities lost, because no one wants a “weak” employee. & to be honest, no one deserves that. Comparably it’s what I would imagine a Cancer patient fearing once they fell someone they’re sick; that look. People do view you differently. They look at you like you’re a sick puppy. & feel bad for you, but stay at bay. When all we want is for someone to walk along side us & say, “I get you’re struggling & even if I don’t understand what you’re going through.. I’m here if you need me.”
Folks, that’s it.
I struggled with awful, paralyzing anxiety for nearly a decade of my life, if not more. & most people never knew. Because I got really good at hiding it & not allowing that burden to fall on anyone. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always been an incredibly happy, grateful, thankful girl even though the pain… But there were some dark days as well. & although I fought through most of the pain alone (by choice) & am stronger than I ever imagined I could be on the other side of heartache… Some people aren’t so lucky.
Through countless days of uncertainty & crippling thoughts, I would always pray, “Why?” “Why me?” & I asked that hundreds of times a day…for what was years. I knew there had to be purpose in my pain. But all I heard was crickets. That even though I cried myself to sleep most nights, said no to events I’d normally rush to accept, missed out on football & baseball games, family affairs of climbing mountains, or only ate when my mom sat me down & watched to make sure I did. I still had hope in the purpose of my pain.
I see it now. I hear what I’m supposed to do. & I want to answer that call. But it’s still a little blurry. I truly want to be a voice for those who are broken, bruised, lost, & hopeless. For those who suffer & dont have anyone in their circle they think could ever understand. Girl, that’s me! Boy, I’m here! 
I’m not sure how I’m gonna do this, but its something I want to tread lightly in. If you have any suggestions, send them my way please.
& if you suffer from any of the awful mental illnesses out there, they aren’t your fault. And I’m here for you, boo. 
Thanks for listening sweet ones..  Love you the most..💛💛https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10154088463986491&id=10606591490

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