Dear Anxiety, you presented yourself so cautiously.

Carefully. And easily. We tiptoed around each other for a while and then suddenly you crashed into me. I didn’t even know what hit me at the time. But I knew it was something odd. You didn’t come all at once. And you had so many faces. Some were pleasant and some were not.

More than often, you were ugly as hell. Which made me skeptical and scared but I didn’t think anything of it.

I used to be afraid of you, Anxiety

In the beginning, I thought it was just a bad feeling. I thought of you as a warning. As if you were telling me when to be careful.

You were never something I asked for so I was left confused as to why you chose me. I didn’t know if I was supposed to tell someone what I was feeling at the time… I didn’t even know if what I was feeling was real. It all blindsided me if anything.

None of it made sense to me.

Dear Anxiety, you’re a heavy load to carry

You make me second guess myself, Anxiety.

You make me feel insecure, fight with me almost every day over the simplest things, and force me to worry about things excessively. I stress over things that are beyond my control because of you.

You changed me, Anxiety. Sometimes I don’t know who will I be whenever I wake up.

And because of you, I pushed away every single person who has ever loved me, because you made me believe that they didn’t love me in the same way.

Dear Anxiety… Still to this day, I walk on eggshells 365 days out of the year in fear of waking you. In fear of triggering the wrong side of you.

On the outside looking in, people walk on eggshells around me. I’m the one they don’t want to set off. Because they don’t want to trigger me. But they have no idea about you living inside of me.. they don’t know about the battle I fight every day trying not to trigger you.

Outside looking in, people don’t see you. They don’t even know you exist. They only see me.

I just want a break from you. I’m exhausted.

Whether it’s a good day or a bad day for me, you are still here. In control of me and my thoughts. Creating unnecessary stress.

Suffocating me. Torturing me.

I sometimes don’t understand how I’m able to function in life. If I’m not panicking then I’m overthinking, and if I am not overthinking then I am worried about something.. something you possibly made up.

I hate that you’re a part of me

You just love to see me suffer. And I’m the one who has to get up every day holding it all together when half the time I am a fucking mess. A complete mess. And it’s all because of you.

I’m tired. And drained.
All I can do is just breathe and pray. But sometimes that doesn’t even go well.

You don’t let up either. Why do you enjoy seeing me suffer? And you must get a kick out of seeing me sabotage myself .. right?

Why do you enjoy it? Why?

One thing I am certain about… I know that I will get through this. You may not ever leave my side in life but I know I will win this ongoing battle with you one way or another — and I will gain control of myself again.

Dear Anxiety, I won’t let you beat me.

Related: Anxiety: The Things People Don’t Talk About