Good morning, my friend.
I was thinking this morning, drinking my coffee and pondering on all of life’s many issues—thinking about you, of all things. I know it might seem kind of weird—we might not know each other as well as we’d want to, but I feel like I have a sense of who you are. A sense of what’s deep down inside. We’re in the same boat you and I, you know that?
You feel that tightening deep down in your stomach? It pains you every day—its gravity is so intense that it feels like it’s got a hold of your heart. I get it, because I feel that too. It feels like someone is just squeezing your heart inside your chest at will; clenching it and never letting go, and it’s awful. We both wake up in the morning the same way; and at first it might not be there, but it comes. It most certainly comes, and we both know it’s coming, but there’s not a thing we can do to prepare for it.
We’ve lived with this forever. Since the days when we were kids, we got a glimpse of this tightness and ache that knots us all up. I guess back then it was just over things like “cooties” and if mom and dad were mad at us for not doing our homework. It’s a lot different feeling now though, and I know it is for you too, and I understand. Really. You and I both know it’s a lot more intense these days; a lot more painful; and it kills our optimism even more than it used to when we were children.
Sometimes it drags us down into the darkest parts of us. Sometimes it even changes us for a time, and makes the world around us feel bleaker than what we could have ever imagined possible.
I am right here with you, friend. I felt compelled to write this not for my own sake, but for yours. You and I both feel that clasp on our hearts that stoke the worrying we’ve already been doing enough of.
I wanted to tell you, in this letter anyway, that if I could hug you, I would. You’re resilient for dealing with it this long. And no matter how much more craziness transpires tomorrow, or the next day, or even this year or the next—know that when you’re wrestling with anxiety, you’re not alone. You don’t have just me either. You have more friends that span beyond what you see now, supporting you and who can relate and want to embrace you through the anxiety, too.
Because we’re all dealing with it, together.