Sunday, 8 September 2019

Summer of anxiety

Summer for me this year was stifling. 

Suffocating. Lonely. 

I often felt like Harry Potter in the summer of 1993 during the relentless heatwave back at the Dursleys’. The constant fear of some unknown presence creeping up unannounced - in Harry’s case Dementors from Azkaban - wasn’t too dissimilar either.

A persistent choking feeling at the back of my throat day and night. Seeping up from my toes. The constant fear that it would rise up above my throat and spill. Anxiety pouring from my mouth. That was the fear I lived with throughout the summer of 2019.

Why? What was the anxiety from? I have no idea. And in some ways, that is the definition of anxiety isn’t it?

But as the leaves begin to turn and autumn creeps in, curling around the faded edges of summer. The air lifts. Stifling warm breeze turns to a crisper, fresher bluster. I feel my chest lifting too. Feeling freer. Open. Light.

God, I hope this freedom, this lightness, is here to stay throughout autumn’s golden months.

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