Just a Word

I have anxiety.

Why does that seem so hard to admit?

It's just a word, nothing more.

It's what it feels like...

That's what makes it terrifying.

Anxiety makes you feel like you're drowning.

Drowning in self doubt and insecurities.

Sometimes it's hard to get out of bed.

Most days it's hard to get out of bed.

The thought of getting up and facing the day.

Walking through the crowded halls.

Hoping you can just blend in with the rest.

Feeling like every single person is staring you up and down.

Taking in your delicate skin like it's the soft pages of a book.

The hardest part is realizing that nobody cares.

Nobody is looking at you.

Why can't I convince myself of that??

Why can't I give a presentation in front of the class without thinking the whole class notices if I studder?

Why can't I wear my favorite jeans thinking that everyone is going to make fun of the way they fit?

No one cares.

Why can't I get that through my head.

Yeah, that's right, the anxiety.

It's always there. 

Like a good friend, except it's not.

Constantly stabbing you in the back.

Constantly making you feel small.

It won't ever go away.

It might never get easier.

But over time..

I sure hope it becomes manageable.

This poem is about: 
Me

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