Photographer & Mental Health Advocate

Anxiety Awareness

Disorganized bummer

It's been quite some time since I've written about my anxiety on my page and for that I apologize. I sometimes get lost in my mind for weeks on end and cannot express myself in the ways that I'd like to. I'm not sure why that is but it feels like I've had my voice taken away and every time I try to write something down, it's a chaotic mess of thoughts with no point or end. Or maybe there are points and ends but they just are so entangled within each other that I'm just too tired to try and figure it out. 

I cannot deny that this election has also caused me much anxiety. America has voted for a tyrant whose values are as corrupt as Kurtz from the book "The Heart of Darkness." A man who will never acknowledge his errors and will instantly blame it on others. He will take us back 50 years if he takes the rights from, Mentally ill/Disabled people, LGBTQ, Women, Blacks, Muslims, Mexicans; basically anyone that is NOT a white man, away. And for the people in the back, I'm not going to argue about politics so kindly take a seat. This whole election has caused me great anxiety. I've always had control issues with engaging in acts that I am not familiar with, let alone what a racists, misogynistic person like Trump will do for our country. I'm sure, well now I am fully aware, that many are feeling the same way.

November 9th felt like a bad nightmare, I felt the sadness, the fear and the anger of the world; that's the horrible part of being so empathic, you feel A LOT. It was one of the strangest and yet comparable feelings to losing a loved one; I'm not sure why I could even fathom comparing this to losing a loved one because when my Grandpa died, my world did too. But everyone was careful with what they spoke about, many had somber thoughts and just looked listless, just like when my grandpa died. It brought back painful feelings and I wanted to run away from the pain but I couldn't. I believe in a divine plan and know that everything happens for a reason but it doesn't mean that these events, all of them around the world, do not frighten me.

I can already feel my mind trying to intertwine different thoughts and I'm not sure I can keep writing before I go off on a tangent. Guess this will always be the way my mind works, a disorganized library filled with books of everything and nothing, all at once. Funny how I think I have so much to say but can't ever write it down; I give writers a lot of credit for being so coordinated with their thoughts. But I think I know why writers are good, because they do not care what others think, to a certain extent at least. I on the other hand, feel sometimes that my anxiety is just a joke to people, like having anxiety is an easy way out of getting out of life. No matter how much I write and advocate, people will still say ignorant and people will still stigmatize me. 

Maybe this is the reason why I've stopped writing, because I'm so afraid that people will stop caring about me and the story I have to tell each and every time someone asks me, "What's a mental illness?". What if they don't care about me because I'm me but because of my story? What if they only look at me because they see someone who is so strong for being vocal about a taboo subject? I don't consider this courageous one bit because this is my reality, this is how I have to life my life. And this life has not been as difficult for me as it has for many others that I talk too. I just don't want people to think I'm a fake. 

I can't end this on a happy note, though I know many things I could write to bring the negative article full circle with positive thinking, but sometimes I just need to sit with these melancholy thoughts to remind myself why I started expressing myself so openly in the beginning. May we learn that without the negative, the positive can't ever be. 


Until then, 

xoxo Jacklyn.