I call it the blockade.

One seemingly impossible to surpass,

All efforts terminated,

All that is left is frustration.

Panic.

For what’s the point of trying,

When nothing changes?

A downward spiral never to be stopped;

Anxiety.

I call it the internal struggle.

One that cannot be explained away,

Or even told as a tale.

It’s the invisible enemy,

An obstacle from young,

Divided;

But not yet conquered.

Anxiety.

I call it the battlefield.

One of the mind that cannot be blown away.

There are no bombs to drop,

No troops to send;

There is no easy solution for change.

Time was taken;

But not taken for granted.

Anxiety.

I call it the eye-opener.

One that could not be ignored,

For insight it provides,

And perspective it creates.

There were needs,

More than met the eye,

And that step was taken towards transition.

Help was on its way.

Anxiety.

I call it the inspirer.

One that cannot be overshadowed,

For through it illuminates opportunity,

Potential yet fulfilled.

Within me is the light once dim,

Now shines brighter,

Brighter than before,

Brighter than ever.

Anxiety.

I call it the motivator.

One that reaches beyond intrinsic standards,

For it challenged me,

On levels unimaginable.

Though not easy,

It’s necessary;

A continuous journey.

A journey I’m controlling.

Anxiety.

I call it the life-changer.

One that cannot be taken away,

A life-lesson not to be rewritten;

For it molds me,

Humbles me,

And even teaches me,

But it doesn’t make me who I am.

For still not complete is my masterpiece.

Thanks Anxiety.

Love, The Girl with Anxiety