Me all day: OMG the beach is calling to me. Pure Moana viiiiibes. Yass!!!
I pack my beach bag. Towel, water, sunscreen, book I’ve been wanting to read for ages, thongs, bathers on with shorts and a cute summer top.
Just as I reach for my bag to leave…it lands.
A heavy weight on my chest that grows tentacles that wrap around my legs, my arms, my chest, my throat.
Oh hi depression. I’m just off to the beach.
Depression: Yeah, that’s not happening today.
Anxiety: Yo! I’m late but I’m here! Let’s go over all the most horrible situations that could happen at the beach. Maybe drowning?
Depression: Defo. Or everyone laughing and pointing at your fat body in that swimsuit
Anxiety: Oh that is GOLD.
heart racing, palms sweating and I’m struggling to breathe
Me: But…the beach…
Depression and anxiety: Yeah nah. Not anymore.
So I’m at home staring at my beach bag with tears in my eyes.
This is so hard.