I've wanted to write a blog about Anxiety for a while now. There are so many topics to write about, from the cringe-worthiness of listening to self-help books from authors who clearly haven't had anxiety, to trying to navigate what it means to have gotten anxiety for the 3rd time in my life when I thought it was something I had already 'gotten over'. But identities are constantly in flux. Part of getting better is learning to cope with those stinging words 'mental illness'. It's that shift in identity, that understanding that maybe I'm not the person that is 'over' anxiety, that I most want to write about though. Not because I want to cry about how I want it to be gone (although, at times I certainly do), but because having to deal with anxiety and depression has caused me to learn a lot of things about myself, about people, and about love. Learning to cope with anxiety is a story of acceptance. Accepting the racing feeling in your chest.