My mind attacked me

In the first two weeks of May, twenty-twenty, I relearnt the importance of guarding my mind with all my might.

Emotionally, I was in all sorts of dark places. For that period, I fought bouts of anxiety. I found myself living inside my head a lot more than I should have. I was hiding myself from the world. I felt threatened.

A thought struck me during those bouts of anxiety: my being a writer makes the mind the biggest tool with which I create my work and process my life’s matters.

That’s why I’m handling my getting back to my upbeat self as delicately as I can. Mental and emotional matters can leave recurring scars if not handled carefully.

All I can say is, the last two weeks were tough. This week, though, house cleaning plus sweeping round the yard, some running and football practice matches have helped a great deal.

I can now even write these thoughts you’re reading. I’m in a lighter place emotionally.

I remember one of the evenings I was teetering on the brink atop the anxiety bridge, I resolved to give myself time and space to feel and think and be anxious about life. I figured I’d make it through.