the short story project


Spills Milk, Cries

I am beginning to write this at 5:04am on a summer morning. I have not worked in over two months which is not like me. I have been out of work due to injury. This absence of work is not good for me as I have anxiety. I had depression and anxiety, but I have taken steps to tamp down the sadness through strategies given to me by mental health professionals and deep breathing apps that I have since deleted. I am glad that the depression is being held back at the moment, but I can’t shake the anxiety. I was going to say “I can’t shake the anxiety lately”, but it is not a lately type of anxiety that I have. It’s an always type of anxiety. I have sought help for that from the said mental health professionals and deleted apps, but it always seems to sneak back into my head, fierce and unavoidable. I know it isn’t healthy. I can’t will it to stop. I think the anxiety stems from my want for everyone to feel happy. As unrealistic as that is, I still feel like that’s my motivation. Don’t disappoint them, don’t cause a scene, don’t hurt anybody. I can do this, I will make this work, I will figure it out. If you’re still following me through this treacherous sea of sentences, thank you. I am writing this in hopes to relate to others. I want to let others know they are not alone. However, I also want to see whether I am alone in this. I hope not. I hope I can motivate and connect with others. If not, I should download those apps again and breathe. Please tell me this helped you.

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