Anxious Attachment FEELS like...

It can be hard to describe for those that don't have it. Send this to a friend or family member who you want to understand. Sometimes it's easier to give these types of explanations.

Anxious attachment is like the dread you feel when you know you’re missing something really important for a trip you’re planning, but you can’t remember what it is.

Anxious attachment is the feeling a 7 year old has when they’re scared of the monster under the bed.

Anxious attachment is the feeling that when your loved one is out of sight, that they’re actually at risk of being swallowed up by a black hole at any random moment, never to be seen again.

Anxious attachment is when your body forgets that it exists, and instead becomes an untethered soul seeking its loved one for residence.

Anxious attachment is looking at a photo in super zoom and seeing a raging forest fire, instead of zooming out and seeing that its actually only a single lit match.

Anxious attachment is trying to do a strenuous cardiovascular workout inside of a sauna, or with a blanket over your face.

Anxious attachment is that feeling that when the lights go out while you’re in bed, insects, snakes, and literal monsters appear and slowly start to close in on you.

Anxious attachment is watching a horror movie in 3D and not being able to understand that the movie villain is not actually real.

Anxious attachment feels like free falling from the sky without a parachute, and with none of the thrill.

Anxious attachment is like the people in the virtual reality goggles videos on YouTube, where they run into a wall in their actual house because their brain thinks the game world is real life.

Anxious attachment is the devil on your shoulder telling you that you ain’t shit and that nobody loves you.

Anxious attachment is a clever enemy. It slithers into my subconscious, serenades me with claims that it loves me and will keep me safe. These are lies. Anxious attachment is a parasite, that feeds on my stress, fear, and insecurity. The more food I give it, the bigger it becomes and the smaller I become.

My work is to starve out the negative narratives it tells me. I will tame that beast.

I speak love and affirmations over myself.

I exercise and get out in nature.

I meditate.

I surround myself with caring community, and I am open to that community continuing to arrive in unexpected/helpful/timely ways.

I love myself.

I do not judge myself.

I do not judge the needs of my heart, nor do I receive external judgment, neither real nor imagined. Of course it’s mostly imagined though.

I am giving myself what I need.

I am no longer sacrificing myself for others.

My love for myself is non-negotiable and unlimited.

I hold space for me.

Because I love me.