I tried explaining it to Pete once, when he asked, like a good friend, what was going on. I told him anxiety is like whack-a-mole. Unpredictable, always waiting beneath the surface. Sometimes it’s a trigger that you can pinpoint and deal with, but even then, unexpectedly anxiety rears its head and you’re spinning, wishing you could locate that thing, for there to be one thing, that makes you this way so you can isolate it and smack the shit out of it, or…more accurately, fix it. Somehow. Anxiety isn’t always debilitating, and for me, more often than not, it doesn’t spiral into depression,
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