Dearest Anxiety
Part III of a letter to a ‘part’ utilizing the model of internal family systems approach, please refer to Part I: A Discussion with Sadness and Part II: A Letter to Joy for background.
Part III: Dearest Anxiety
Dear Anxiety,
I know you are frightened. I know you fear what the future holds for you, your family, and for the rest of the world. I know you fear that there is more evil than there is good in the world. I know you fear for the marginalized and most at risk during this pandemic. I know you fear for your family with other health issues, you fear for your grandparents, your uncle. You fear for the children with special needs you work with that are stuck at home in situations that are less than ideal. You fear for those parents that are overwhelmed, stressed, and just looking to catch a break. I know you fear your father. I know you fear for what he is capable of, you fear his vengefulness. I know you also fear for his wellbeing. I know you fear for your mom and the damage he has done to her. I know you fear for the mental health of your workhorse of a sister who always takes on too much. I know you fear for those stuck at home with abusive partners. I know you fear for the mental health and burnout experienced by health professionals during this time. I know you fear for the mental health of your friends, for the mental health of the Country, and frankly the mental health of the rest of the world. I know you fear that life will never resume back to ‘normal’ (what is normal anyway?).
Anxiety, I know you have a history. I know you have been with me for a very long time, although I didn’t know that was your name. I remember you by my side creeping around the corners of my childhood home wondering when your dad’s next explosion was going to occur. We were always together, looking around, hyper-vigilant to our surroundings, watching every move, listening to every sound. Were his foot steps heavier today? What rate was he walking in? This would determine what kind of day it would be. Would today be a good day? I haven’t done anything ‘wrong’ yet, surely it will be a good day. You were by my side when we made sure we were ready an hour earlier than the time to leave for practice so we wouldn’t be the trigger to an explosion. You could never EVER be late, if you were not in the car 5 minutes before you were told to leave it would not be a good day. You were present after every sports match, despite your performance, wondering if he would lecture you about everything you did wrong, even if it was your best game of your life. You dreaded those post game car rides. You were by my side each and every day as we attempted to cross a bridge covered in egg shells. A bridge to what? You never really knew, you just hoped the grass was greener and the sky was brighter. We tried our best not to crack those egg shells. We were just a child, surely we were light enough. Thank you anxiety, I know you were with me to keep that child safe.
Anxiety, I know you can be helpful at times. I know you created a high striving, hypervigilant, punctual adult. I know you are here, always by my side to keep me safe from the monsters in my closet. You were my protector, but I am an adult now and I find you very overbearing. You crave too much control. You make it difficult to breathe. You make me panic when there is no reason to panic. You make me feel closed in, confined, and claustrophobic. You cloud my vision and sometimes I can’t see clear enough to move on and live in the present. I know your storm clouds will come and go, but know that I will be okay if you drifted here less often. I am safe. I will get through this.
We will be okay.
-P ❤
Part IV: Discussions with the Manager of the Internal System
