An anxiety disorder is a lingering voice, a voice that whispers to you seconds before you start drifting asleep. Except its words are not comforting or soothing like a mother’s lullaby—instead, they are cunning, vindictive, strategic. The voice feeds on your fears, preys on your insecurities, exploits the fact that it takes your heart mere seconds to start leaping out of your chest. An anxiety disorder is like having a bedmate—a bedmate that wakes you up by suffocating you with a pillow. You awaken breathless, exhausted, wondering how you’re going to go about your day when it feels like there’s no point in even trying.
But at the same time, an anxiety disorder is strength. It is the knowledge that despite that voice, despite that bedmate, you still manage to get out of bed, keep your head held high, and stand strong. You are strong, you are powerful, and you control your fate—if you put your mind to it, you can truly overcome any opponent life throws your way.
Read more of Richa’s work at Huffington Post.