• Talk About It Mate

Time To Talk About Sundays

Why are Sundays so difficult?

If you suffer from ANXIETY this may resonate with you.

Or if you’ve ever been hungover.

A few weeks ago, I met up with some friends in Cardiff for the weekend. As Sunday progressed and I began my journey home, I started to develop a case of ‘Hangxiety’, also known as ‘Beer Fear’.

The Fear of Monday. The worry of the upcoming week. All the issues that constantly follow you transcend and make you a nervous wreck. That’s putting it nicely.

I can’t breathe. Tick. Tock.

Shit.

I’m going to get found out.

I’m in trouble. Trouble will find me.

I won’t be strong enough.

I’m not good enough.

Why did I allow myself to do this? Shame on you for enjoying yourself.

You went out and had a couple of nights out with friends. They belong here. You don’t.

They are meant for this world. You don’t fit in. You are just pretending.

A sickness in my stomach.

Disorientated. Shaking. An overwhelming sense of a nameless dread.

Coming to get me.

I’m not present. Not alive. Disconnected.

I’m on the train home now. Hurtling back towards reality.

Monday. Work. Grind. Monotony.

Going nowhere. Unfulfilled.

Who am I?

I’m not them. I put them on a pedestal. They are great.

I’m fucking useless!

Suffering. Yet strangely inspired. Slow down brain.

Fog outside. A lot like my brain under siege. Trying to pick through it.

Confusion. A murky tangled web of thoughts. Some familiar, yet no less scary.

Mind racing at a crazy speed. Thoughts whizzing by. A nervous wave of feeling and inspiration. I start to ride on this wave.

Heart rate up. Trying to breathe normally. Regulate it.

But there’s an unspeakable fear looming. There always is.

I feel silly and embarrassed. My past failures conjure themselves up for me.

FRUSTRATION.

Bleakness washes over me in waves. What’s the point?

Definitely spiraling now. An inner voice tells me I will never experience joy again.

THIS TOO SHALL PASS.

Then suddenly I lurch back towards the living. Register what is around me.

The train conductor cracking jokes. Maybe it isn’t all bad.

Joy again. I laugh at this situation. These feelings come and go like buildings outside the window.

I inject some positivity.

Tell myself to worry less.

Give less of a shit. Fuck it.

Which makes me want to get back on it. Good eating. Exercise.

Keep boosting your self-esteem. Enhance your self-worth.

Now I can’t wait to get back.

The pendulum of energy is in my favour. The ball now in my court.

Like it always should have been.

Address my issues.

One thing at a time. Not all problems can be sorted now.

Choose your battles well, I tell myself.

You ARE heading in the right direction.

You got this.

People don’t see you the way you see yourself. Stop condemning yourself before you’ve even given yourself a chance.

I’m appreciating myself more and how I work.

How I operate. In short concentrated bursts.

Like these sentences.

Write. Keep busy. Turn these thoughts into something useful.

Stop them from doing damage and turn them into doing good.

Maybe it will work for you.

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