Anxiety Momster

Tag: stress

  • Working While Anxious: How I Survive the Workday with a Mind That Won’t Shut Off

    Working While Anxious: How I Survive the Workday with a Mind That Won’t Shut Off

    A Real Look at Balancing Mental Health and Making a Living

    ⚠️ Trigger Warning: This post discusses mental health, anxiety symptoms, emotional stress, and the challenges of working while living with anxiety.

    📌 Disclaimer: I am not a mental health professional. This blog is based on my lived experience working with anxiety. For medical advice or diagnosis, please consult a licensed provider.

    Some mornings, just getting out of bed and facing my inbox feels like running a marathon. The anxiety hits before I even clock in. My heart races. My chest feels tight. My mind is already drowning in what-ifs.

    What if I mess up?
    What if I freeze during a Zoom call?
    What if they think I’m not good enough?

    This is what working with anxiety looks like.

    🏢 The Invisible Battle at Work

    Most people don’t know I’m anxious.

    I answer emails. I show up to meetings. I hit my deadlines. But inside?

    • I’m rereading messages 3 times before hitting send.
    • I’m sweating during a “quick call.”
    • I’m talking myself down from spiraling every time someone says “Can we talk?”

    High-functioning anxiety means I look capable on the outside — and completely wrecked on the inside.

    🤔 How I Manage Anxiety on the Clock

    Here’s what helps me stay grounded during the workday:

    1. Pre-Shift Breathing Rituals

    Before I even open my work apps, I sit with my water, breathe in for 4, hold for 4, out for 6. It helps calm the nervous system before the chaos starts.

    2. Text Reassurance Scripts

    I keep a few notes on my phone that remind me of the truth:

    “You’ve done this before. You can do it again.” “You are allowed to take your time.” “A typo is not the end of the world.”

    3. Micro Breaks

    If my chest gets tight or my hands start shaking, I take 3 minutes to stretch, walk, or just breathe in silence. No explanation needed.

    4. Clear Communication Boundaries

    I set my status when I need focus time. I use templates for stressful emails. And I give myself permission to not answer everything immediately.

    I am thankful to have found a job that truly cares for its employees — and that has been a big blessing in my anxiety journey.

    🧠 What I Wish More People Knew

    • Anxiety is not laziness.
    • Avoidance isn’t irresponsibility.
    • That “overthinker” label? That’s often trauma management.

    Working with anxiety is a constant internal negotiation. And some days, just showing up is the win.

    If you’re reading this and nodding your head — know this:
    You’re not alone. You’re not weak. And you’re doing more than enough.

    💜 Need Help Staying Grounded at Work?

    Grab my free Peace Over Panic Journal + Tracker to support you through the workday chaos.

    👉 Download it here

    Includes daily check-ins, breathing logs, symptom tracking, and space to write out your thoughts before they spiral.

  • Conquering Anxiety: A Workbook for Empowerment

    Conquering Anxiety: A Workbook for Empowerment

    ⚠️ Trigger Warning: This post discusses mental health and anxiety-related thoughts that may be distressing to some readers. Please proceed with care.

    📌 Disclaimer: I am not a licensed therapist or medical provider. I share personal experiences, tools, and reflections that have helped me manage anxiety. Always consult a professional for medical or mental health guidance.

    Some days, anxiety whispers.
    Other days, it screams.

    Mine has said things like:
    “You’re not a good mom.”
    “You’re falling apart.”
    “Everyone’s tired of you.”

    Sound familiar?
    Yeah… I thought so.

    I created this workbook because anxiety’s voice had taken up too much damn space in my head — and I needed a way to fight back. A way to talk louder. A way to come home to myself.

    That’s where “You vs. Anxiety” was born.

    It starts with just one page — the one I’m sharing with you today.
    A page that says: “I see you. I hear what anxiety says. But here’s what I say back.”

    ✨ Preview Page: “Anxiety Says…”

    This isn’t just a worksheet. It’s a shift.
    From fear to truth. From panic to power.

    🖤 View the free preview page here when you subscribe

    You’re not broken. You’re not weak. You’re just someone who’s been fighting battles no one else can see.
    And now — you’re learning how to fight differently.

    The full workbook is coming soon. For now, I hope this first page reminds you of who the hell you are underneath all the noise.

    We’re not aiming for perfect here — just peace.

    — Anxiety Momster

  • 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: 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: I’m Done Hiding From You

    Dear Anxiety,

    For a long time, I tried to hide you.
    Pretend you weren’t there.
    Smile through the panic.
    Laugh through the fear.
    Nod through the moments where my body was screaming inside.

    I thought if I just stayed quiet, if I just kept pretending, you’d leave me alone.

    But you didn’t.

    Hiding didn’t make you disappear.
    It only made me disappear.
    Piece by piece, I lost parts of myself trying to make you less noticeable to the world.

    Not anymore.

    I’m done hiding from you.
    I’m done pretending to be okay when I’m crumbling inside.
    I’m done acting like you’re not heavy when some days you’re too much to carry alone.

    I will not be ashamed of my struggle.
    I will not let silence be your weapon.

    Talking about you doesn’t make me weak.
    Admitting my fear doesn’t make me broken.
    Sharing my battles doesn’t make me less.

    It makes me free.

    You don’t get to make me hide anymore.

    I am showing up.
    I am speaking out.
    I am standing tall — even with the weight of you still trying to drag me down.

    I’m done hiding.
    You don’t get that power anymore.

    — 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: Some Days, I Just Need to Cry

    Dear Anxiety,

    Some days, fighting you feels too heavy.
    Some days, carrying all this fear, all this tension, all this weight — feels like too much.

    And on those days, I don’t want advice.
    I don’t want affirmations.
    I don’t want to hear how strong I am.

    I just need to cry.

    Not because I’m weak.
    Not because I’m giving up.
    But because crying is a release that my body, my heart, and my soul sometimes desperately need.

    I don’t owe you constant strength, Anxiety.
    I don’t owe you constant toughness.
    I don’t have to be a warrior every single second.

    Some days, I’m just a human who’s tired.
    Who’s scared.
    Who’s overwhelmed.

    And today, I let myself cry.
    Without shame.
    Without judgment.
    Without apology.

    Because healing doesn’t always look brave.
    Sometimes it just looks like tears falling quietly in the dark —
    and still waking up tomorrow to try again.

    I’m not weak for crying.
    I’m strong because I let myself feel.

    And no matter how many tears fall,
    you still don’t break me.

    — Shanice

  • Dear Anxiety: I Miss Who I Used to Be

    Dear Anxiety,

    Sometimes, late at night, when the world is quiet and my mind won’t stop spinning,
    I think about the person I was before you took over.
    The girl who laughed without second-guessing it.
    The woman who made plans without fear creeping in.
    The version of me who didn’t feel broken all the time.

    I miss her.

    I miss waking up without immediately checking my body for signs of danger.
    I miss trusting a good day without questioning if it’s “too good to be true.”
    I miss feeling free in ways that now feel foreign to me.

    You changed me, Anxiety.
    You made me cautious, scared, small.
    You made me doubt my own body, my own mind, my own instincts.

    And there’s a part of me that still grieves for who I used to be.
    For the easy smiles.
    For the carefree moments.
    For the peace I didn’t even know I had back then.

    But here’s something you didn’t take:
    My ability to grow.
    My stubborn hope.
    My strength to rebuild — even if it looks different now.

    Maybe I’ll never be exactly who I used to be.
    Maybe I’m not supposed to be.
    Maybe the girl I miss made room for the woman who fights every single day to stay standing.

    Maybe that’s the point.

    So yeah, I miss her sometimes.
    But I’m learning to love who I’m becoming too.
    Even if it’s messy.
    Even if it’s hard.
    Even if I carry scars.

    I’m still here.
    And you don’t get to write the ending of my story.

    I do.

    — 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 Learning to Live Alongside You

    Dear Anxiety,

    For a long time, I thought the goal was to get rid of you completely.
    To silence you.
    To fight you into nonexistence.

    And maybe that’s still the dream —
    But I’m starting to realize something:
    Maybe healing doesn’t always mean making you disappear.
    Maybe it means learning to live alongside you without letting you run the show.

    I don’t like you.
    I don’t welcome you.
    But I’m learning that I don’t have to fear you the way I used to.

    You can show up, pounding at the door of my mind,
    but I don’t have to let you move in and rearrange my whole life every time.

    I can feel the fear without letting it decide for me.
    I can notice the panic without spiraling every single time.
    I can acknowledge your voice without letting it become my truth.

    Living with you isn’t easy.
    There are days you still knock the wind out of me.
    There are moments I still feel like I’m back at square one.
    But I’m not.

    Every breath I take without letting you take over — that’s progress.
    Every moment I choose to keep going despite the fear — that’s strength.
    Every small decision I make for me and not for you — that’s healing.

    I’m not perfect at this.
    Some days, I still stumble.
    Some days, you still scream louder than I’d like to admit.

    But I’m not running from you anymore.
    I’m learning how to live.
    I’m learning how to stay.
    I’m learning how to be me — even with you standing in the background.

    You don’t get to erase my life.
    Not anymore.

    I’m taking it back.
    One shaky, stubborn, beautiful step at a time.

    — 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. 🖤