Anxiety Momster

Tag: life

  • A Heartfelt Letter to Anxious Moms for Mother’s Day

    A Heartfelt Letter to Anxious Moms for Mother’s Day

    A Peaceful Letter to Anxious Moms on Mother’s Day

    ⚠️ Trigger Warning: This post gently touches on anxiety, motherhood, and emotional vulnerability.
    📌 Disclaimer: I’m not a mental health professional — just a mom sharing her heart.

    Somewhere right now, a mom is holding a cup of cold coffee, mentally making five lists while wiping away tears she hasn’t told anyone about.

    And if that mom is you — this is your reminder:
    💜 You’re doing more than enough.
    💜 You’re already worthy.
    💜 And you deserve peace today, too.

    💐 Today, Let’s Pause

    Mother’s Day isn’t just about perfect pictures or gift bags with fancy bows.
    It’s about moments like:

    • Quiet breathing before the house wakes up
    • Tiny hands hugging you tighter than usual
    • Letting yourself rest without guilt
    • Laughing even though you cried last night

    🌿 You’re Still a Good Mom If…

    • You need breaks
    • You say “not right now”
    • You don’t love every moment
    • You’re healing while parenting
    • You cry and show up anyway

    Anxiety doesn’t erase your love.
    It just makes you more intentional about holding on to the good.

    💌 A Love Letter to Moms Like Us

    To the mom with the full heart and tired spirit —
    I see you.

    You are the safe place.
    The breath of calm during the storm.
    The reason someone feels deeply loved.

    And even on the days when you don’t feel “together”…
    your presence is still a gift.

    🧘‍♀️ A Simple Practice for Today:

    Take 3 deep breaths.
    Hand on your heart.
    Say:

    “I am enough. Right now. Just as I am.”
    “I don’t have to do it all today.”
    “I deserve peace, too.”

    💜 Wishing You a Gentle, Peaceful Mother’s Day

    If today feels joyful — soak it up.
    If today feels hard — breathe through it.
    Either way, you are loved, seen, and appreciated.

    Happy Mother’s Day 💐
    From one anxious mom to another.

    — Shanice, Anxiety Momster

  • 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: When Fear Feels Louder Than Hope

    Dear Anxiety,

    Some days, no matter how hard I try, your voice is louder than anything else.
    You wrap your hands around my mind and squeeze until all I can hear is the worst-case scenario.
    You shout over the good things, drown out the small wins, smother the sparks of hope I try so hard to hold onto.

    You tell me danger is everywhere.
    You tell me I’m one breath away from disaster.
    You make my body feel like a battlefield even when I’m sitting in a safe, quiet room.

    Today was one of those days.

    Today, your fear felt bigger than my dreams.
    Louder than my logic.
    Heavier than my hope.

    But here’s what you didn’t realize:
    Even when you were roaring inside my head, something quieter survived.

    A tiny, stubborn flicker of hope stayed lit.
    It wasn’t loud.
    It wasn’t flashy.
    It was just there — steady, patient, refusing to be extinguished by your chaos.

    And that flicker?
    That is mine.
    Not yours.

    You can scream.
    You can threaten.
    You can flood my body with fear and make my hands shake and my chest ache — but you cannot have my hope.

    Even if it’s small.
    Even if it’s hidden behind tired eyes and heavy breaths.
    It still belongs to me.

    And I will protect it with everything I have.
    Because every day that I hold onto even a sliver of hope…
    Is a day you don’t win.

    I’m still here.
    I’m still breathing.
    I’m still fighting.

    You are loud, Anxiety.
    But I am louder.

    — 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: I’m Tired of Fighting You

    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:
    This post discusses real emotions related to anxiety and may be triggering for some readers. Please take care while reading.

    Disclaimer:
    I am not a medical professional. I share my personal journey with anxiety in hopes of connecting with others who may feel the same. Please reach out to a healthcare provider for medical advice.

    Dear Anxiety,

    I’m tired.
    I’m tired of waking up already feeling like I’m losing a battle I never agreed to fight.
    I’m tired of second-guessing every sensation, every thought, every breath.
    I’m tired of pretending I’m fine when my insides are screaming for help.

    I have tried to reason with you.
    I have tried to ignore you.
    I have tried to fight you.
    And yet, you still show up — uninvited, unwanted, unapologetic.

    You steal my peace on days that should have been beautiful.
    You make me fear things I logically know are safe.
    You make my own body feel like a stranger, a threat.
    You have turned simple moments into mountains I must climb just to survive.

    And worst of all — you make me doubt myself.
    You whisper lies in my ear that I’m weak.
    That I’ll never get better.
    That I’m broken beyond repair.

    But here’s the thing:
    Even when I’m tired, I’m still here.
    Even when it feels unbearable, I’m still breathing.
    Even when I want to give up, some tiny part of me fights back — and that part is stronger than you.

    I don’t have all the answers yet.
    Some days, I’m just surviving.
    Some days, I’m angry.
    Some days, I’m scared.
    But every day I wake up, I’m still in the fight.
    And that makes me brave in ways you’ll never understand.

    So, dear Anxiety —
    You don’t win today.
    Not because I’m fearless.
    But because I’m choosing to show up anyway.
    And that’s something you can never take from me.

    — Shanice

    If you’re fighting your own invisible battles today, know this: you are not weak for feeling tired. You are strong because you keep going. And you are never, ever alone

    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.

  • ✨ I’m Still Here: What It Feels Like to Survive Another Anxiety Episode

    Tonight, I felt like I was dying. Again.

    It crept in, like it always does — quiet at first, then full-blown chaos. My head felt funny, my stomach flipped, and my brain told me it was something serious. A brain tumor. An aneurysm. Something fatal.

    My hands got cold. My chest tightened.
    I wanted to cry, scream, and run. I wanted it to stop.

    And yet…
    Here I am.
    Still breathing.
    Still here.

    (more…)