[Trigger Warning: Anxiety, body image issues, suicidal thoughts]

10:00 am: I had my cheat meal last night. I must be bloated today. Disgusting. I should try and avoid mirrors. But I have to check the scale to send my weight to my trainer. Should I stand on it? Oh god, it’s going to be bad. It’s okay just do it. Just stand on it. The worst will be over in a little while. Even if it’s higher than usual you know it’s water weight, you’ll manage, just stand on it. 71.4. One full kg up from yesterday. Disgusting. How are you ever going to make progress doing shit like this? Hey but I really enjoyed myself last night, shouldn’t that count for something?

10:15 am: The person I met for drinks hasn’t texted yet. Maybe he’s also asleep. Or maybe he’s never going to text you again. What if you were a fucking nuisance last night? As it is when you’re sober you’re a nuisance, you must have been way worse after a few drinks. Yeah, I guess. Maybe I was. Maybe he’ll never text me again. It’s okay I guess. I’ll manage if he doesn’t. I have a life outside of him. Do you? Do you really? From what I recall you have no friends, no hobbies, and nothing in your life other than your work and managing your illness. You’re pathetic. It’s okay. I’m doing my best. I’m okay as I am. I’m doing my best. I’m trying and that’s more than most people do.

10:30 am: Fuck I need to leave at 3:30 and I have SO.MUCH.TO.DO. Am I ever going to get anything done? I don’t even know where to start.

[My breathing becomes shallow. I can’t actually do anything. I sit rooted in the same spot on my bed with this worry about getting everything done. 15 minutes pass]

10:45 am: Okay just make a list. Make a list. Breathe. Make a list that way things are on paper and there’s less in your head. Just make a list. Okay now what’s the easiest thing to do on that list? Eat. I should eat. That’s a good start. Oh but I have to brush first. God damn. I have to brush and then eat. But to brush I need to drink some water. My water bottle is empty. That means I have to go all the way to the kitchen and get water and come back. What if my mom is awake? She’ll notice I’m not okay. Then I’ll have to explain to her that I’m not okay but I’ll be okay. Oh man I really don’t want to have this conversation now. Okay slow down, just get the water and we’ll take it from there.

11:00 am: Good. Two things done. Drank water, brushed your teeth. What’s next?

[For the next hour I manage to function. I make breakfast, send a photo to my trainer, and allow myself to eat and watch a full episode of a TV show].

12:00 pm: Back to the list. Physiotherapy. This is going to take 45 minutes. Time for a podcast.

12:20 pm: He still hasn’t texted. Stop it. Focus on your work out. Listen to the podcast.

12:40 pm: He still hasn’t texted. Okay write it down. What’s your fear? I’m afraid that he’s never going to text me back and that I’ve ruined yet another interpersonal relationship by being myself i.e. being a nuisance, a burden, a pain to be around. Cognitive Distortions: Jumping to Conclusions. Magnification. Reframe: He’s doing other things. Maybe he’ll text me later. Even if he never texts me again, it’s not the end of the world.

1:00 pm: Jesus this physio was supposed to be done 15 minutes ago and now I’m late. I still have to eat lunch and shower and pack for my shoot. GOD DAMMIT FUCK FUCK FUCK I’M GOING TO BE LATE I’M GOING TO BE LATE.

[Shallow breathing. Unable to actually do anything other than worry]

1:15 pm: STOP IT. Go for a shower. Oh wait I haven’t turned on the geyser. FUCK FUCK FUCK I’M GOING TO BE LATE I’M GOING TO BE LATE I’M GOING TO BE LATE I’M GOING TO BE LATE. Stop. Turn on the geyser. Pack your costumes. Okay. Okay good plan. Okay can I breathe for sometime? Okay breathe. Breathe. Two minutes of breathing won’t make you late, it’s okay.

1:25 pm: FUCK IT’S ALMOST 1:30 I’M GOING TO BE LATE I’M GOING TO BE LATE I’M GOING TO BE LATE. Okay just do the things you need to do. Pack. Shower. Have lunch. Just finish that and then we’ll see what time it is. He texted.

[wave of relief. smile on my face. I’m not a nuisance.]

2:00 pm: WHAT THE HELL IT’S 2???? I’M GOING TO BE LATE I’M GOING TO BE LATE I’M GOING TO BE LATE HOW HAVE I BEEN TEXTING HIM FOR THIRTY MINUTES WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME. Okay fucking relax you texted while eating lunch so at least lunch is over now. Go for a shower.

2:30 pm: Okay I’m on track. I might not be late.

3:00 pm: Whew. Okay, done. Done with shower. Done with lunch. Done with packing. Good. Okay pick up is here. Time to work.

[Manage to work despite a steady hum in my head taking up 30% of my energy and focus. The hum is probably anxious thoughts I’m not acknowledging].

8:00 pm: Finally done for the day. He hasn’t texted all day. Maybe he’s busy. Or maybe he’s done with you and done with your shit and tired of your crap. He’s never going to message you again you’re such a pain in the ass. It’s okay. Even if he ghosts me, I’ll live. I’ll manage. I’ll be okay.

8:30 pm: He hasn’t texted in 7 hours. What if he’s dead? Should I call him? No don’t call him. Don’t be so needy and weird. But I’ll feel so much better if I call him and know that he’s okay. I mean what if something horrible happened to him? What if he’s with someone else? Some gorgeous girl with a sparkling personality and a body like a Victoria’s Secret model? What if he’s never going to text me again? What if he’s moved on? Should I call him? I’ve been so good all day just one phone call. Just one. But what if you call and he doesn’t answer that’ll make you feel so much worse. Yeah but at least I would have tried calling. Okay I’ll call. No don’t call. What is wrong with you get a GRIP.

[This goes on for 10–15 minutes where I am unable to move, sitting on my bed, phone in my hand switching between whatsapp and the dial pad]


9:00 pm: He was just busy. YOU’RE SUCH A GOD DAMN FOOL what is he going to think of you now? He’s going to realize you’re a paranoid freak of nature. Why couldn’t you just be a normal person and assume that he’s busy? Who assumes someone is dead??? What is wrong with you? You’re such a fucking pathetic piece of shit. You are SUCH fucking LOSER. I hope you die in your sleep. For your sake and everyone else’s.

[I get into bed and soothe the anxiety by planning every detail of how I’ll hang myself from a ceiling fan. I haven’t eaten dinner but I don’t want to get out of bed. Thankfully I fall asleep.]

If your day feels like this, it’s not normal. You might have anxiety. You should seek help from a therapist near you. For most of 2019 I didn’t feel like this so I know what it’s like to get better and I thank my psychiatrist for that. I have fallen back into anxiety for multiple reasons but I continue to get help and work on managing it.

If you’re in India please look for a psychiatrist near you on Practo.com or Lybrate.com. You can get better. You don’t have to live like this. If you’re in Bangalore, my doctor’s name is Dr. Ravi Prakash and you can find him on Lybrate.com.

Thanks for taking the time to read something I wrote/compiled/transcribed. I don’t put any of the content I post behind a paywall because I feel like it should be accessible to anyone who needs it. That being said, putting together content takes time, effort, and thought. I’m a freelancer without a salary and I live off the gig economy and the contribution of patrons. If you would like to contribute to my work (you can give as little as $2 or 150 rupees a month) please click here: https://www.patreon.com/urvashi

Actor, Struggler, Agony Aunt