Anxiety Momster

Surviving Anxiety One Breath, One Breakdown, One Blog at a Time”

Tag: health

  • Dear Anxiety: I Forgive Myself for the Bad Days

    Dear Anxiety,

    For a long time, I hated myself for the days you won.
    The days I couldn’t get out of bed.
    The days I canceled plans.
    The days I cried and shook and felt like a burden to everyone around me.

    I carried so much shame.
    I thought every bad day meant I was failing.
    That if I was strong enough, I wouldn’t feel this way.

    But that’s not true.

    Bad days aren’t failures.
    They’re part of healing.
    They’re part of living.

    So today, I’m choosing forgiveness.

    I forgive myself for the days I was too tired to fight.
    I forgive myself for the panic attacks, the canceled plans, the missed moments.
    I forgive myself for surviving the best way I knew how at the time.

    You don’t get to weaponize my past against me anymore.

    Every hard day I lived through is a testament to my strength — not my weakness.

    I am allowed to have bad days.
    I am allowed to be human.
    I am allowed to forgive myself.

    I am proud of how far I’ve come, even if the road was messy.

    And I’m not carrying shame with me anymore.

    — Shanice

  • Dear Anxiety: Even on My Hardest Days, I Show Up

    Dear Anxiety,

    You try to tell me that bad days erase all the progress I’ve made.
    That if I have one breakdown, one panic attack, one wave of fear — I’m back at square one.

    But you’re wrong.

    Even on my hardest days,
    I show up.

    Even when my chest is tight and my mind is racing,
    I still breathe.
    I still move.
    I still live.

    It might not look pretty.
    It might not look brave.
    Sometimes it’s just getting dressed.
    Sometimes it’s just answering a text.
    Sometimes it’s just making it through another hour.

    But it’s showing up —
    and that’s enough.

    You don’t get to define strength by how loud or visible it is.
    You don’t get to decide what counts.

    I decide.
    And every shaky breath, every tear-streaked smile, every tiny choice to keep going counts.

    You can make the days hard.
    You can make the nights long.
    But you cannot make me disappear.

    I am here.
    Even when it’s hard.
    Especially when it’s hard.

    — Shanice

  • I’m Having a Panic Attack Right Now: The Real, Raw, Unfiltered Version

    Trigger Warning: Panic Attacks, Health Anxiety, Raw Emotion
    Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional. I am just a woman trying to survive the war in my head. Please don’t take this as medical advice—this is my truth, my experience, and maybe yours too.

    Right now… as I write this… I am in it.
    Not recovering from it. Not reflecting back on it.
    IN IT.

    My head feels like pressure is building—like something inside is about to snap. I felt a “pop” earlier, not painful, but terrifying. It felt like a gunshot went off near me, except it was inside my head. And now I’m spiraling.

    My neck hurts. My shoulder aches. My arm feels weird. My chest feels… funny—not tight, not painful—just off. And my anxiety is feeding off every single symptom like it’s a buffet.

    And the scariest part?
    My mind doesn’t believe I’m okay.

    Even though I’ve had tests. Even though I’ve been told everything looks fine. Even though I’ve been here before and came out okay.
    My brain doesn’t trust it.

    People say “it’s just anxiety,” but they don’t understand how dismissive that sounds when your entire body is screaming that something is wrong.

    It’s not just anxiety. It’s:

    • My chest tingling and me wondering if I’m dying.
    • My head feeling like there’s a rubber band wrapped around the front.
    • My back hurting from how I’ve been laying with my laptop, and me thinking it’s something worse.
    • Me sitting here, literally begging God to let me be okay.

    I tried laying down—didn’t help.
    Tried rubbing Vicks under my nose—gave me a second of relief before the fear came back stronger.
    Tried breathing, drinking water, moving around, telling myself it’s just panic… but none of that stuck.

    I want to cry. I want to run. I want to scream and crawl out of my skin.
    But mostly, I just want it to be over.

    I’m so tired of living like this.
    So tired of wondering if every pain is the one they missed.
    So tired of feeling like I’m walking a tightrope between calm and chaos.

    Sometimes I feel like a prisoner in my own body, and anxiety is the warden.
    No escape. No peace. Just me, the thoughts, and this endless cycle of fear.

    But if you’re reading this…

    You’re not alone.

    This post isn’t about “how I conquered it” or “5 ways to stop a panic attack.”
    It’s just the truth. The moment. The reality of what this feels like right now.

    I know I’ll get through it. I always do.
    But right now, in this moment… I just needed to say:

    It’s happening. I’m scared. And I’m still here.

    And if you’re still here too, scared in your own way, I see you.

    Let’s breathe—one shaky inhale, one tearful exhale—until it passes.

    We’re not broken. We’re not crazy.
    We’re just surviving something invisible.
    And that’s brave as hell.

    Need something to help you track it all and breathe through the chaos?
    I made something just for us. Grab my Peace Over Panic anxiety journal + tracker, completely free:
    Download it here

  • Dear Anxiety: You Can Roar, But I Will Rise

    Dear Anxiety,

    You are loud.
    You roar with fear, with panic, with worst-case-scenarios.
    You try to drown out everything good, everything peaceful, everything true.

    You want me to believe that your voice is the only one that matters.
    That your fear defines my future.
    That your noise cancels out my dreams.

    But you’re wrong.

    You can roar.
    You can scream.
    You can flood my mind with doubt and my body with fear.

    But I will rise.

    I will rise on the days when breathing feels like a victory.
    I will rise on the nights when sleep feels impossible.
    I will rise through the racing heart, the shaky hands, the heavy thoughts.

    I will rise even when it’s messy.
    Even when it’s ugly.
    Even when it’s nothing more than a whisper of hope inside a storm.

    Because rising isn’t about perfection.
    It’s about refusing to stay down.

    You can roar as loud as you want.
    But you will never silence my will to live, to love, to heal, to hope.

    I will rise.
    Again.
    And again.
    And again.

    You can count on that.

    — Shanice

    These are my real, raw letters to my anxiety.
    Some days, it wins. Some days, I fight back.
    Either way, these words are proof that I’m still here, still breathing, still trying.
    If you’re fighting too, you’re not alone. 🖤

  • Dear Anxiety: You Don’t Get to Steal My Joy

    Dear Anxiety,

    You have stolen enough from me.
    Moments that should have been filled with laughter — you filled with fear.
    Milestones that should have felt like victories — you shadowed with doubt.
    Ordinary days that could have been peaceful — you twisted into battles.

    You tried to make me believe that being happy was dangerous.
    That if I smiled too big or laughed too loud, something bad would happen.
    You trained me to brace for impact even when nothing was wrong.

    But I’m starting to see you for what you really are:
    You’re a thief.
    You sneak in quietly, tiptoeing into my good moments, and whisper “what if” until the joy fades away.

    Not anymore.

    I’m reclaiming my moments — messy, imperfect, beautiful moments.
    I’m letting myself feel joy even if my hands are still a little shaky.
    I’m letting myself laugh even if fear is waiting around the corner.
    I’m letting myself live even when you tell me it’s not safe to.

    Because joy is not something I have to earn by worrying enough.
    Joy is not something you get to dangle in front of me like a trick.

    Joy is mine.
    It always has been.
    It always will be.

    You might still show up, uninvited and unwanted.
    You might still try to plant seeds of fear in the middle of my happiness.
    But I’m not giving you the power to steal from me anymore.

    I choose to protect my joy.
    I choose to celebrate my good days without apology.
    I choose to believe that I deserve peace — even when you’re screaming that I don’t.

    You don’t get to win.
    Not today.
    Not tomorrow.
    Not ever.

    — Shanice

    These are my real, raw letters to my anxiety.
    Some days, it wins. Some days, I fight back.
    Either way, these words are proof that I’m still here, still breathing, still trying.
    If you’re fighting too, you’re not alone. 🖤

  • Dear Anxiety: You’re Not the Boss of Me Anymore

    Every day with anxiety feels different. Some days it whispers. Some days it screams.
    I’m writing these letters to speak back to it — to take my power back, one word at a time.
    Here’s today’s letter.

    Trigger Warning: Anxiety, Mental Health Struggles
    Disclaimer: I am not a therapist or doctor. I’m just sharing my real, personal experiences living with anxiety. If you’re struggling, please reach out to a professional. You are not alone.

    For a long time, you ruled my life.
    You whispered in my ear that danger was hiding around every corner.
    You convinced me that every strange feeling in my body meant something terrible.
    You made me second-guess every decision, every plan, every moment of happiness — because what if something bad happened?
    You wrapped your hands around my chest and squeezed until breathing felt like a battle.
    You stole hours, days, years of my life — time I can’t get back.

    And for a long time, I let you.
    Not because I was weak.
    Not because I wanted to.
    But because I thought you were protecting me.

    I believed your lies.
    I believed that hyper-awareness kept me safe.
    I believed that worrying was the same thing as preparing.

    But I see you differently now.
    You’re not my protector.
    You’re not my truth-teller.
    You’re not my “gut instinct.”
    You’re fear, dressed up in a thousand different disguises.

    And here’s the thing:
    I’m tired of letting fear drive the car.
    I’m tired of shrinking myself to fit into a life that’s ruled by panic.
    I’m tired of missing out on memories, love, laughter, LIVING, because I’m too busy bracing for disaster.

    You’re still here, sure.
    You might always be here, lurking in the background.
    But you’re not the boss of me anymore.

    You don’t get to make my choices.
    You don’t get to decide how my story ends.
    You don’t get to define who I am.

    I’m learning to live with you — but on my terms.

    Some days, I’ll fight you with deep breaths and stubborn hope.
    Some days, I’ll fight you by getting out of bed, even when my heart is racing.
    Some days, fighting you will just mean showing up.

    And some days, I’ll lose.
    But that doesn’t make me weak.
    It makes me human.
    It makes me a fighter.

    You can stay in the backseat if you want.
    But I’m the one driving now.

    — Shanice

    These are my real, raw letters to my anxiety.
    Some days, it wins. Some days, I fight back.
    Either way, these words are proof that I’m still here, still breathing, still trying.
    If you’re fighting too, you’re not alone.

  • Friend or Foe: Which One Is Anxiety?

    When you think of anxiety, what comes to mind — friend or foe?
    If you’re like most of us coping with anxiety, it can feel like both.
    Sometimes it protects you. Sometimes it paralyzes you.

    The truth is: anxiety plays both roles. And learning how to work with it (instead of constantly fighting it) is a powerful step toward peace.

    What Is Anxiety — And Why Do We Have It?

    Anxiety is the body’s natural alarm system.
    Thousands of years ago, it helped humans survive threats like wild animals or dangerous weather.

    Today, anxiety still has a purpose:

    • It helps you stay alert.
    • It motivates you to prepare for important events.
    • It warns you when something feels unsafe.

    Without any anxiety, we wouldn’t be careful, responsible, or cautious.
    In healthy amounts, anxiety is a powerful friend.

    When Anxiety Becomes a Foe

    The problem starts when anxiety gets stuck in overdrive.
    Instead of protecting you from real threats, it starts sounding the alarm over everyday things — like going to work, answering the phone, or driving across town.

    When anxiety takes over, you might experience:

    • Rapid heartbeat
    • Shortness of breath
    • Upset stomach
    • Panic attacks
    • Constant “what if” thinking
    • Fear of the future

    When anxiety shows up without real danger, it stops being helpful and starts being harmful.
    This is when anxiety becomes a foe.

    Coping With Anxiety: Is It Possible?

    Absolutely.
    Even when anxiety feels huge, you can build tools to manage it.

    Healing doesn’t mean “getting rid of anxiety forever” — it means learning how to calm the alarm so that anxiety doesn’t control your life.

    Helpful tools for coping with anxiety include:

    • Journaling and mood tracking
    • Mindfulness and breathing exercises
    • Therapy or coaching
    • Limiting social media exposure
    • Building calming routines

    One powerful option is using an anxiety support journal — a space where you can track emotions, document small wins, and remind yourself of your strength.

    Final Thoughts

    Anxiety is neither completely your enemy nor completely your ally.
    It’s a natural part of you — just like any other emotion.
    It’s not here to break you.
    It’s here asking for your attention, your care, and your healing.

    You have survived every anxious day up until this moment.
    You will survive today, too.
    One moment, one breath, one gentle step at a time.

    📖 Need Extra Support on Your Anxiety Journey?

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    You deserve to heal. You deserve to thrive. You deserve to feel peace again.

  • Creating an Anxiety Emergency Kit: What’s Inside Mine

    ⚠️ Trigger Warning: This post discusses panic attacks and anxiety tools. If you’re feeling overwhelmed, please take care of your mental space as you read.

    Disclaimer:
    I’m not a doctor, therapist, or licensed mental health professional. I’m just a mom living with anxiety, sharing my personal experiences in hopes that they help someone else feel less alone. Nothing in this blog should be taken as medical advice. Please speak with a professional if you’re struggling — you deserve support.

    🧰 Why I have an anxiety emergency kit

    Because anxiety doesn’t make appointments.
    It doesn’t care if I’m home, in traffic, in the grocery store, or trying to sleep.
    When it hits, I need tools — not just deep breathing and good intentions.
    So I made a kit. A real one. With stuff I can grab fast when my nervous system flips out.

    This isn’t some cute Pinterest box — this is survival, comfort, grounding, and real tools that help me stay on this side of okay.

    🖤 What’s in my anxiety emergency kit:

    1. Black Pepper (yes, for real)

    Smelling black pepper helps snap my brain out of panic.
    It’s sharp, strong, grounding — and weirdly calming for me.
    I keep a tiny jar in my bag or desk. Laugh if you want, but it works.

    2. Vicks VapoRub

    Cool on the skin, strong in the nose — and mentally soothing.
    I rub it on my temples or under my nose when I feel like I’m spiraling.
    That menthol smell brings me back fast. Bonus: it feels like my grandma is hugging me.

    3. Peppermint essential oil

    When I can’t breathe right, this helps open things up.
    I use a rollerball or just take a sniff from the bottle.

    4. Chewing gum or mints

    Keeps my mouth busy and tricks my body into thinking I’m safe.
    (You don’t chew when you’re running from a lion, right?)

    5. A fidget ring or something to squeeze

    When my hands need something to do and my brain’s going a mile a minute.

    6. Cooling wipes or a mini cold pack

    For when my face is hot, my chest is tight, and I need relief now.

    7. Lavender sachet or spray

    Just a soft smell that makes me feel calmer. Not always, but sometimes it helps when nothing else does.

    8. A little notecard of reminders

    Mine says:

    “You are safe. This is anxiety. It will pass.”
    “You’ve felt this before. You’re still here.”
    “Do one thing: sip water, step outside, breathe.”

    9. Music or calming sounds

    Sometimes I throw on my headphones and play ocean waves, soft piano, or a playlist I built just for anxious moments.

    🧠 Want to make your own?

    You don’t need all the same things I have. Your kit should reflect you.
    What calms you down? What snaps you back into the moment? What comforts you when nothing else does?

    Here are some other ideas:

    • A favorite lotion or scent
    • A small comforting photo
    • A stress ball or pop fidget
    • A pack of tissues
    • A guided meditation downloaded for offline use
    • A tiny note from your kids or someone who makes you feel safe

    🖤 Final thoughts

    This kit doesn’t “cure” anxiety. But it helps me ride the wave.
    It reminds me I’m not helpless. I have tools. I have power.
    And every time I reach for it, I remind myself:
    I’ve survived this before. I’ll survive it again.

    What’s in your anxiety kit? Drop it in the comments or DM me — I love hearing what works for other people.

    Stay strong, Anxiety Fam. You’re doing amazing.

  • Sometimes I Cry and Don’t Know Why

    ⚠️ Trigger Warning: This post contains personal experiences related to anxiety, overwhelm, and emotional release. Please take care of your mental space as you read.

    Disclaimer:
    I’m not a doctor, therapist, or licensed mental health professional. I’m just a mom living with anxiety, sharing my personal experiences in hopes that they help someone else feel less alone. Nothing in this blog should be taken as medical advice. Please speak with a professional if you’re struggling — you deserve support.

    🫧 It just hits me

    There are days I wake up already on the verge of tears.
    No warning. No fight. No “bad news.” Just a heaviness in my chest that won’t go away.
    And sometimes… I cry. And I can’t even tell you why.

    There’s no one thing.
    There’s no big trigger.
    There’s just… everything. All at once.

    💔 It feels like this:

    • My throat tightens.
    • My chest feels like it’s holding in a scream.
    • My thoughts start spinning.
    • I feel guilty for crying — like I “should” be fine.
    • I feel embarrassed even when I’m alone.

    And sometimes, I cry quietly in the bathroom so no one sees.
    Sometimes, I cry in the car after holding it in all day.
    And sometimes, I just cry in bed because I don’t have the strength to do anything else.

    🧠 What I’ve realized over time:

    Sometimes the tears are for things I never had the chance to process.
    Sometimes they’re for the fear I carry in silence.
    Sometimes they’re for the pressure of being “strong” when I feel anything but.
    Sometimes they’re just because I’m exhausted.

    Crying isn’t weakness.
    It’s your nervous system trying to reset.
    It’s your body asking for grace.
    It’s your soul waving a little white flag saying, “I just need a minute.”

    💡 What helps when the tears come:

    • I stop asking “why” and just let it happen.
    • I talk to myself the way I’d talk to a friend: “It’s okay to feel this. It’s okay to not have a reason.”
    • I do something small that brings me back: wash my face, change my shirt, step outside, hug my kids.
    • I don’t shame myself for being human.

    🖤 You’re allowed to feel it.

    Even when it doesn’t make sense.
    Even when it feels “dramatic.”
    Even when no one else sees what you’re carrying.

    This is your reminder that tears are not a failure.
    They are a release.
    They are a reset.
    They are real.

    And if you cried today — or cry after reading this — that’s okay.

    Me too.

  • Living with Hypochondria: My Daily Challenges

    Disclaimer:
    I’m not a doctor, therapist, or licensed mental health professional. I’m just a mom living with anxiety, sharing my personal experiences in hopes that they help someone else feel less alone. Nothing in this blog should be taken as medical advice. Please speak with a professional if you’re struggling — you deserve support.

    ⚠️ This post talks about health-related anxiety and panic symptoms. Please take care of your mental space as you read.

    🧠 My mind doesn’t stop

    A simple headache? Could be a brain tumor.
    A flutter in my chest? Must be a heart attack.
    Tingling fingers? Is this a stroke starting?

    Even when logic tells me I’m okay, my anxiety tells me I’m not. It hijacks my peace with “what ifs” that spiral fast and loud.

    📲 The Google trap

    I’ve Googled symptoms I didn’t even have — just to prepare myself “in case” they show up. I’ve convinced myself I was dying, only to later realize I was just dehydrated or tired. It’s embarrassing. But it’s part of how my brain copes — by trying to “solve” a threat that isn’t even real.

    🩺 Doctor fatigue

    Yes, I’ve gone to urgent care “just to be sure.”
    Yes, I’ve asked doctors the same question multiple times.
    No, it’s not for attention — it’s because my anxiety convinces me something was missed.

    It’s exhausting. For me and for the people I love. But it’s also my reality.

    💡 What helps me cope

    • Scheduled reassurance. I limit how often I can check symptoms or Google anything.
    • Distraction therapy. I redirect my mind with music, puzzles, or helping my kids.
    • Grounding logic. I ask, “If this were someone else, would I think they were dying?”
    • Therapy + journaling. Writing it down helps release the fear from my head.

    ❤️ You’re not alone

    If you deal with health anxiety, know this:
    You’re not crazy. You’re not broken.
    Your brain is just trying to protect you — it’s just overdoing it.

    You can live with hypochondria and still find peace.
    It takes work. It takes patience. But most of all, it takes grace.

    🖤
    If this spoke to you, share it. Comment. Or just sit with it and know…
    You’re not alone. You never were.

    — Anxiety Momster

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