My anxiety can be silent.

This was me yesterday. Sensory overload. Phones. People. Team. Party. Set up. People I dont know. Eating. Small room. Loud room.
It was too much. I was cold and sweaty. Edge of tears. Shaking. Not talking. Eyes darting. Dizzy. Couldn’t focus.

But I still had work to do. Still needed to listen to calls. Still had monitors to submit. Still had to help clean up.

All while pretending I was fine. All while telling myself: don’t cry, stop shaking, tip your head back to keep the tears from spilling out, stop picking at your thumbs, stop biting your lip, your blinking too much.

All while I’m hearing every cough, sneeze, sniffle, chair squeak, door open, drawer close, phone ring, keyboard tapping, mouse clicking.

All while I’m feeling every stitch of the seam of my socks, footstep within a five foot radius of my desk, hungry because I threw my lunch up but not wanting to seem greedy or selfish.

Not exactly the way I wanted to start the new year. But at least, it can only get better.

Hopefully. Right?


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