There are few things in this world that don’t spike my anxiety – namely, sleeping, reading, and organizing. That leaves everything else, including this recent endeavor, on the “things that make me want to barf” list.

So when the nagging idea to start a blog finally pushed itself from a frequently passing thought onto the “things that keep you up at night” list (see, told you I like organizing), I realized it was time to pursue putting my anxious thoughts and experiences down in writing for the rest of the world to see – even if the idea of public attention it makes me want to hurl.

In the coming ambiguous time period (commitment also gives me anxiety), I’m planning to document my trials and tribulations with mental illness, all the while hoping that someone, somewhere will feel less alone. Who knows – maybe by the end of this, blogging won’t be on my barf list anymore!

Before we go, I’d like to provide a brief introduction. The name’s Emily. I’ve had anxiety since the moment I was born. You can ask my mother – she reminds me often, with affectionate adoration in her voice (or so I chose to hear), that I’ve always been “3 going on 30”. She’s not wrong; I’ve been concerned about everything, all the time for as long as I can remember.

The perk of this is that I’m basically an expert coping techniques, the most important of which stem from Em’s Anxiety Bucket List. Also included are copious amounts of reading, learning new things, spending way too much time on the internet, and living my life as if I am an undercover agent who has been convincing everyone around me for 27.67 years that I’m a functioning human without a care in the world.

Now before I address the impending panic attack related to hitting that daunting “Publish” button that’s been adamantly mocking me since I first clicked the equally-aggressive “Write” button, I want to throw out a quick thank you to whoever is reading this. You’re with me in the beginning of my most ambitious anxiety bucket list adventure yet, and I promise I’ll do my best to make this worth our time.

Until next time. (She sits back from the computer, letting out an exasperated sigh of relief. No, the writing wasn’t difficult – typing out a running mental commentary isn’t hard at all. It was the next step causing the feeling of panic to creep up into her chest – the whole “make yourself vulnerable to the world and risk seeming… well, seeming anything at all” step that had nestled itself painfully between her shoulder blades, preventing her from getting enough air. She slowly navigated the mouse to the top right corner of the screen, the high horse upon which the Publish button was perched. The dread made her fingers heavy – how do people do this regularly?!, she thought frantically to herself. She read the post over for the 15th time, took another long pull on her coffee, delicately wiped her brow, made a mental list of every reason why she shouldn’t be doing this, made another mental list of why she should, stretched her fingers, admired her fingers, scolded herself for procrastinating, and then; she took a deep breath, shut her eyes, and clicked. It was done. The first post was live.)