The other day, I was in a muck of anxiety. Just a swampy, muddy mess of it. And at the same time, I was supposed to go out and meet with some friends.
Sometimes, when the anxiety-demons are chewing on your brain cells, when they’re telling you all the things you should be afraid of and all the things that might go wrong, being with friends helps.
You can say: Here I am, and by the way, everything feels terrible. Here you are, and how are things with you? And they can say what they say, or not, but either way you told your truth and you were not alone, and that is something.