When I was eighteen, I had my first anxiety attack.

Alone.

In my room.

11 PM

Crying, gasping, my heart felt like it was going to die.

I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

I knew I should see a doctor.

But I didn’t.

 

When I was eighteen

I woke up one day crying.

Scared.

Worried.

Alone.

I woke up needing someone.

 

When I was eighteen

I learned it was okay to be afraid.

No one told me that.

No one ever told me that.

I figured it out on my own

 

When I was eighteen

I got tired of not having my feelings taken seriously

Just because I’m a girl

I got tired of not having my thoughts heard

Just because I was young

I was tired of needing the validation of others

So I validated myself

And douces to anyone who thinks I can’t do that.

 

When I was eighteen

I needed to speak

I needed to be heard

I needed to know I could still make explosions

I needed to DO something

I needed to breathe

I needed someone to hold me and then shove me out of a plane

I needed to be me

I needed to get out of the box I had been shoved in to

 

When I was eighteen

I got tired of waiting for superman

I didn’t want to wait for Lois Lane

I was tired of being criticized for breathing.

For not thinking what they thought

I was tired of being blamed all the time

 

When I was eighteen

I was counting down the days until move in day

Until I could breathe

Until I could be free to make mountains shake

Until I could again not be afraid

Until I could open my mouth again