I am far from being a morning person. If I could, I would sleep till late afternoon so I didn’t have to face them. I know I can’t, so I drag myself out of bed and get myself to work. Some mornings are tougher than others. Some days, the anxiety has my stomach in such a tight vice I cant move.
I think many will agree that mornings aren’t fun, but this can be exacerbated for someone with anxiety. My bed turns into a safe zone. Tucked away beneath my covers, the world is only a hazy reality. I know it’s out there, but my worries seem slightly more manageable from the safety of my bed.
I forgot for a while what that felt like. I thought somehow I had escaped waking up to the anxiety-driven dread that makes it near impossible for me to get out of bed. I woke up this morning feeling that way. Anxiety and depression never fully go away, I’ve discovered. Sometimes, things happen in life that can make it come back; sometimes it may show up for no reason.
The best thing I can do on those mornings I can barely get out of bed is to face my fears and take those first few steps out of bed. It’s terrifying, but I’ve found somehow once you get out and face the world, you can realize it’s not as bad as you thought it might be. I can do it, we can do it, and it’s going to be OK. I promise.
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