When Anxiety and Depression Come Knocking on My Door
Me: You’re not welcome here.
Anxiety: I just need to talk to you about something. It’s really important.
Me: No, that’s what you said last time, and when I let you in, I couldn’t get you to leave.
Anxiety: Please, I just want to chat for a minute. I brought my friend. We just want to catch up.
Me: Please, leave. I’m begging you. Please, go. I’m finally doing well again.
Anxiety: We aren’t here to cause any problems. We just want to help. We need to talk about some things.
Slowly, but surely they push the door open. I allow them to have a seat so we can have a quick chat, and they can be on their way. The problem is the quick chat always turns into them needing a place to stay for a while. They promise it’ll only be for a couple days and then it turns into weeks, sometimes months.
The longer they stay, the more their stuff accumulates in my house. It becomes more theirs than mine. If I’m lucky, then I’ll be able to muster up the strength to evict them myself. Yet, more often than not, I have to call in the troops, my old friends medication, therapy and a few close friends who can see my struggle without me saying a word.
Maybe one day I’ll be able to get them off of my doorstep for good. I pray that my home will be full of permanent residents like joy, happiness, gratitude, adventure and love that there is literally no room for depression and anxiety any more. I long for the day when I’m not fearful of their visits, afraid that they will send me spiraling back into a tunnel of darkness I can’t escape. Maybe one day I will be able to say, “You are not welcome here,” close the door, and return to my life without giving them a second thought. One day.
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