Anxiety is like watching a movie where
you’re the lead actor and each scene gets worse –
countless calamities occur, eventually ending in
one big tragedy – meanwhile, you sit alone
in the dark theater and worry and cry,
your muscles tense, your stomach sick,
‘till you can’t breathe no more.
(Photo by Sasha Freemind on Unsplash)
Rachel has told me many times before of her struggles with anxiety. When I listened to her, I used to not be able to understand it. I’ve always thought of myself as a fairly calm person, and I can remember many moments from over the past several years where I’ve felt very peaceful.
I’m angry and I’m upset. The past few days I’ve sunk into a depression, mixed with bursts of anger. A lot of it has to do with self-isolation. Some of it has to do with bipolar symptoms. However, a lot of it has to do with what’s going on in America right now.
Going over the bridge to South Philly as a kid, I worried it would
collapse. I had no reason for the fear, it was just there. The sports stadiums
stood to the left, and the Navy Yard sprawled to our right. My father had the
window down and the cool air blew against my face, as well as the cigarette