Tag: anxiety

When Everything Feels Delayed


For the last couple of days, I have been feeling anxious. It is difficult to point to one thing and say, “This is the reason.” There are several things, and they all seem to be waiting at the same time.

A pursuit gets delayed. Then it gets delayed again. Something I thought would be easy to finish develops a complication. I spend time trying to sort it out, only to find that the situation has turned against me.

Even a victory can feel strange when it does not come on the terms I wanted. I know I should be pleased that it ended, but part of my mind is still going over how it happened.

Meanwhile, there are other things I want to do. I think about starting one, then remember another that needs attention. Should I finish what is already pending? Deal with what feels urgent? Or make time for something I have wanted to build for a long time? I keep moving between these questions without settling on an answer.

That is the part of anxiety I find hardest to explain. From outside, it may look as though nothing is happening. Inside, I am constantly thinking, weighing, anticipating and preparing to react. A delay in one matter starts affecting how I approach everything else.

I want to get back to work with a clear mind. Right now, even deciding where to begin feels like another unfinished task.

When My World Shrunk to a Hospital Room: A Caregiver’s Silent Battle


Between 2012 and 2014, my entire world was confined to a hospital room. My father was in and out of coma during that time, and I practically lived in the hospital. Life outside those walls felt distant and almost unreal. Festivals came and went, and though friends called and offered support, I just couldn’t engage with them. I didn’t have the emotional space or words to share what I was really feeling.

I wasn’t just taking care of my father; I was battling intense anxiety, frustration, and helplessness every single day. I questioned everything from the doctors’ advice, the treatment decisions, my own ability to handle the situation. I felt like I was stuck in a loop, hoping for a sign of improvement, fearing the worst with every passing hour.

This is a state known as caregiver burnout, where your mind and body are pushed to the edge by constant stress and emotional weight. You run on autopilot, trying to stay strong for your loved one, while inside you feel like you’re drowning.

It took me a long time to process those years and find a sense of normalcy again. To learn that it was okay to step away for a moment, to accept help, and to acknowledge my own emotions without guilt.

If you’re in a similar situation, please remember: your feelings are valid. You’re not alone in your anxiety and helplessness. Take moments for yourself, reach out for support, and know that it’s okay to take care of yourself too.