The title of this particular poem is "shoot the xanax". I thought the title was kind of cool because when you think of taking pills you don't normally shoot them like you would alcohol. I think at one point during a draft of this poem it was titled "pop the xanax" but that seemed very cliche to me. I like the title too because working in healthcare I am fully aware that people mix alcohol and xanax.
This poem is about my struggle with anxiety, which got worse in my 30s. I think I always had anxiety, I can remember being in high school and worrying about this or that, and my mom telling me I was a worrywart. And my dad telling me that worrying about stuff doesn't change anything. Not like they weren't supportive and loving regardless, but I also don't think I ever had anxiety bad enough as a kid that they would have needed to do something else besides offering me advice. And I grew up in the 90s when mental health was not really at the forefront of any real or meaningful conversations.
I had my first panic attack in my early 30s. It was awful. I remember thinking at one point that I was having a heart attack and that I was for sure a goner. Then it took me several years after that event before I started to realize what it was and that if I didn't start doing more to treat my anxiety, it would simply get worse and worse.
I also realized that in my 20s I probably had more anxiety than I let myself believe I had but I was self-treating with a nice steady dose of drugs and alcohol. As I entered my 30s, I was drinking and partying less, therefore self-medicating less, therefore the anxiety showed its ugly face. I feel like I do a much better job of dealing with my anxiety now, between a therapist, my support system and simply facing the fact that I am an anxious person, I believe I am at least handling it better than I was.
I like writing about emotions, hard to describe emotions like anxiety because it's difficult to describe exactly what you're thinking when feeling anxious. And anxiety itself is such a wide spectrum, from very low-level daily anxieties about life, job, relationships, etc. to full-blown panic attacks. Describing one would be much different from describing another because one may just seem like a beeper in your pocket nonstop vibrating, annoying but tolerable, but the other might feel like someone is choking you, definitely not tolerable for long. One is tolerable while one seems like it actually might kill you.
The part where I talk about the snake moving in and out of a field is how I feel sometimes with my anxiety like it comes and goes quickly, I see it and think I can grab it and strangle it, or maybe just grab it to get a hold of it and settle it down, but as I reach for it, it slips away quickly. I am trying to describe how quickly my anxiety seems to come and go and how I can never quite keep up with it or catch it.
I once chased a raccoon out of my garage with a broom, it turned at one point and charged at me hissing and I remember how panicked I was. It was awful. I included a quick image of flying because I often have dreams of flying and falling and find these to be anxiety-inducing.
I think the ending of the poem is simply me trying to figure out how to erase these feelings or make them go away. I hate the basic and stupid advice you get online about more sleep or more water or more meditation, which I am sure are all good things but not necessarily spot on when you are feeling anxious. I also throw in a dig about web MD because I hate that stupid website. Working in healthcare I have noticed how often people look up stuff on the website and come into the hospital with the most absurd ideas about what might be ailing them.
I hope you enjoyed this poem, I enjoyed writing it, and if you want to discuss this poem, any of my other works, poetry in general, writing in general, or even anxiety, just drop me a line (email works great).
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