I like to think I am a healthy person.
One might even call me fit . I eat a well balanced diet rich in whole foods, I work out and I walk about 4 km everyday. So really, I should be the epitome of health, right?
My body begs to differ.
I have anxiety, not just a little, A LOT. I’ve worked very hard to keep it hidden.
My mantra had always been fake it ’till you make it. This facade had been fairly effective for a while, and I’d managed to float through life on autopilot. I maintained relationships, was a satisfactory employee, and eventually became a decent mom. I didn’t excel at any one thing in particular, and settled for mediocrity, finding it too exhausting to be anything more. I spent all of my energy trying to appear normal, and hoping that my mental health could be swept…
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