I spent the better part of today sitting across from a fellow survivor (whom I met through my blog) in a hipster little cafe on the outskirts of our city, and as conversations often do, we gravitated to discussing anxiety, something we have a lot of experience with. One of the things we got to talking about was how so many people don’t talk about the too regular and agonising visits to the toilet.
I spent the last two days, thinking I had caught a bug off of one of the kids, I was nauseous, spending more time on the toilet than usual, I even cancelled a dinner at a friend’s place because I thought I really was sick. I also felt tired and in general off, the more I sat with it, the more I realised it was actually anxiety because by the end of the day it had calmed down and ramped right back up this morning and it started all over again.
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