A Dialogue Between Logic & Anxiety

An internal conversation between Logic and Anxiety (or perhaps between Te and Fi).

Anxiety: I feel cheated and betrayed.

Logic: You chose to divulge to them.  Besides, the relationships weren’t anything substantial to begin with.

Anxiety: But I wasn’t thinking straight.  I was hyperventilating then.  I just wanted them to like me.  I just wanted everything to be okay.

Logic: Then these are the consequences you have to pay. 

Anxiety: Why don’t they like me?

Logic: Why is that a concern?  Is that all you’re concerned about?

Anxiety: No… I don’t know.  It just feels horrible being rejected.

Logic: Would you feel any better if they liked you?

Anxiety: No… but it doesn’t change the fact that I feel this way.

Logic: I don’t concern myself with these sort of trivial matters.  It’s a waste of time and energy.  There are bigger and more important issues to worry about.  

Anxiety: I don’t think I care about such menial things either, but they still do affect me.  I don’t know why.  Do these reactions mean that I ultimately care about such things?

Logic: Are you listening to yourself?  You’re not making any logical sense. 

Anxiety: I know… it confuses me too. 

Logic: Just not let these things get to you, because, after all, you said they don’t matter to you — and they shouldn’t.  Focus your energy on more productive things. 

Anxiety: I try to… but I can’t.  I really can’t.  It’s out of my control. 

Logic: Well, then you’re going to bring both of us down.  I don’t know how else to help.  We’ve been over this many times before, and it’s leading us nowhere. 

Anxiety: …I’m sorry. 

The Heaviness of Exhaustion

Tired.  Fatigued.  Exhausted.
How many synonyms can my foggy mind list today?

Lackluster.  Worn out.  Drained.
Words that describe my day-to-day.

Lethargic.  Listless.  Weary.
Words that describe my every day.

Jadedness.  Dreariness.  Ennui.
They engulf me in every way.

A dense fog surrounds me.  Being awake saps my energy.  Sleep itself is enervating.

I’m so, so tired.  All the time.  It’s crippling and I’m unable to function.

The Cryptic Ocean

This ocean of blue is peaceful at times. As I sink gradually, the blue serenity envelopes me and I sometimes feel as though I’m floating on a cloud.

Perhaps it’s an illusion. The sky is out of reach. The surface has long left my field of vision as I sink further down into the depths of the ocean.

I think about those on land. They move so effortlessly through the briars, the brambles, and the thistles. They emerge unscathed, with mere scrapes on their arms and legs. I’m not made to be on land. Each step I take is a stab.

I belong to this ocean. From time to time, I spot the presence of another entity in the distance. I try to reach out to them, but they’re too far away. We’re each encompassed in a cloud of darkness as we sink slowly into the cold abyss.