Gobstoppers, no more.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why is this happening? Why does this keep happening to me?”

All I was doing at this particular moment was laying on my blue and yellow striped, two-seater couch. My brownish, blonde head was laying on my pink pillow, all cuddled in my fuzzy purple blanket. And Teen Mom 2 Reunion was blaring through my black T.V screen.

Chelsea, of course, made my heart flutter. Her story always brightens my day just a little. I obviously don’t relate to her on the level of being a teen mom, but I understand what it’s like to be a daughter of a teen mom.

And to me, Chelsea is learning to be unapologetically herself, and that’s a complete badass woman right there. Working on herself for her family and never giving up hope.

And since Chelsea has been true to herself, her life is beginning to thrive and she is taking opportunities.

Chelsea allows us as viewers to see her deepest moments to help us realize us Anxiety Warriors are not alone in this cruel Universe. We can too overcome any anxiety, no matter our circumstance, and shut that bitch down.

So hence the confusion on why my chest began to swell up, just a little too tight, and began to close up my passageways to my throat. It’s completely insane how my throat can feel as if I just swallowed 12 gobstoppers all at once.

From the outside looking in, by this point in time, I looked as if I was throwing an adult fit. I flared my arms up and down. With a lot of fucks blaring out of my mouth in between.

I felt like I was never going to get through the moment. As if this would be my final last living seconds on this Earth.

And yah, yah, yah I know I just need to breathe through the so-called panic attacks. And keep reminding my overwhelmed brain, who’s fighting for survival, that what happening isn’t real.

But sometimes that shit just doesn’t work. Like in this particular instance.

Without warning, this bitch decided to just show up and taunt my day.

So as the gobstoppers began swelling up my throat, it must have been at least 50 by now; I closed my hazel eyes. And instead of saying the oh so glorious phrase, “This isn’t real.” At least a hundred times.

I decided to listen to what my body was expressing to me. Now, remember, I am not a therapist nor a doctor. I am just a Warrior expressing strategies that worked for me. All of us are uniquely beautiful and what might work for me, might not work for you. But all you can do during these moments is just try. Just always try.

So I began trying. Trying to understand why my Universe was so overly emotional.

“Oh Brit, I noticed your arms are swinging up and down. I feel the tightness in our throat. What was the last piece of food you ate? Oh, that’s right, a banana. A banana is smooshy. I noticed your head is pounding. Pounding at the front of your forehead. Why don’t you put your hands on your forehead. Find your heart rate. Your arms are no longer swinging. You can sit. You can breathe.”

As I realized my body’s surroundings, I regained control over my thoughts. My thoughts are what fueled my body’s reaction. As always words mean nothing without action. Action proves to yourself and those around you that you are trying to soothe your body. Your soul.

Your body will listen. It may just take time. And this technique might not work instantly as you wanted. And that’s too okay. Strategies take time, patience, and courage.

So as I came back into my reality and sat down on my yellow and blue striped couch. I was proud of myself for making it through another random attack.

I may have looked absolutely ridiculous. I may have been overly dramatic. And I most definitely was being inappropriate with my all fucks. But I made it through the episode. And that is always a success. Always. No matter what the circumstance looks to others.

I’ve survived plenty. And so can you. I promise you.