Why?

I don’t like to be asked “why?” My anxiety is back today. “Why?” Today was a rough day. “Why?” I don’t want to talk about it. “Why not?”

Sometimes I don’t know why my anxiety is kicking up. And I usually don’t feel like analyzing it. Sometimes I don’t want to recap my day and would rather forget about it. Sometimes I don’t want to talk about things and just want to sit with my feelings for a while.

But I honestly can’t blame my husband for always asking. He has been with me from the very beginning of my mental illness journey. He has seen what can happen when my emotions go unchecked or if I have a bad day. My bad days now look different than they did back then. They’re not as bad. But still he worries. He loves me. He wants to help me if he can. And honestly, he’s really good at talking to me and helping me understand what I’m feeling even if I sometimes can’t.

Yet, sometimes I get tired of the questions despite knowing he means well. Although, the questions are necessary. They’re his way of making sure I’m ok. I will forever answer when he asks because I am forever grateful that he stayed with me this long and still cares enough to ask.