The monster

How do you feel when you go home after spending a sunny afternoon on a terrace with new friends, too much food and just enough booze?

Do you feel light, still high on the good times you just had? Or do you feel a lingering sadness that you can't quite place the origin of?

Did it start when your boyfriend talked about what he gets out of religion and you made a snide remark because the church you grew up with made you feel restricted and unwelcome, but you also knew the bitterness towards him was unwarranted?

Was it when someone asked a guy there something like "hey, as the only gay person here, …". You wanted to correct it, but didn't feel justified because you were there with your boyfriend after all.

Was it all the hugs and sweet hand holding that made you feel loved and adored, but yet couldn’t stop the little voice in your brain from relentlessly asking you if you really wanted this, if this was all really something you deserved?

Or was it when you were alone with one person and couldn't think of something to talk about, scolding yourself for being so self-centered that you couldn’t remember any of the basic get-to-know-you questions?

Did you walk out of there and have to stop after 5 steps, leaning against the wall with all these insecurities swirling inside your head, knowing that this was a good day, that this shouldn’t happening right now, that you should just feel happy.

But anxiety doesn’t work that way.

The looming monster in my brain takes any opportunity to claim my peace as its territory. And when he does there’s only one thing to do: go somewhere I feel safe, face the pain - wether it’s tears streaming down my face or panicked breathing lying on my floor - and wait.

At some point the monster will have eaten everything it can.

At some point it’ll leave me alone.

Right?

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