The Hole.

I do like a good gif. The other day, I came across this beauty, which so perfectly explains something I find incredibly hard to put into words: anxiety.

The constant struggle of the man to stay out of that hole is exactly what I’ve been feeling for the last few weeks. And my God it’s hard work. Just imagine spending all day, everyday fighting against something which seems as inevitable as gravity. It’s unbelievably draining, and it leaves very little room in your life for doing anything else.

Work grinds to a shuddering halt. My social life evaporates – which is just brilliant at a time when I need friendship and support. And I degenerate into a hermit, spending day after day lying on my bed, watching boxsets, and stuffing my face with biscuits.

If you’re wondering, that’s where I’ve been for the last month or so. Sorry.

I know it might seem like I’m being lazy sitting at home all day, but I promise, if that’s what I’m doing it’s because it’s the only thing I can do.

But what have you got to be anxious about?

The least helpful question in the world. No, really. It’s up there with “everything will be okay,” and, “just pull yourself together.”

Anxiety is a liar. It sits there in the back of my head, telling me to worry about things that make no logical sense at all. But it’s just there, all the time, like that hole just trying to pull me in.

I don’t have anything to be anxious about – well, no more than any other person – but knowing that doesn’t help when there’s a part of my mind trying it’s best to pull me back into that black hole of anxiety, depression, and paranoia.

So please don’t ask me what I’m worried about. Or whether I’m ‘feeling better’. I will get better, that’s how this works. After a few weeks, the chemicals in my brain will sort themselves out again, and I’ll be back to normal.

Well, perhaps not normal… I’m still me, after all.