Dear Anxiety,
I hate you. I wake up to you looming over my limp, tired body, reminding me of every other thing that I do and don’t have to do today. You seem to come and go as you please, moving into my brain like an uninvited guest, making yourself at home throughout my entire body. When you finally move out, I am left with uncertainty rather than relief. You make my life miserable at the most inconvenient times and you don’t seem to care.
When I finally find the strength to get up and start my day, I move cautiously, for I am unsure when you plan to make your return. I forget about you for a short time and live my life like nothing is wrong. I go along with my day, smiling, laughing, enjoying myself because I know that this feeling won’t last forever. Even on my best days, you always make a point of showing up, making it go from great to good, from good to bad, from bad to awful.
Even the meaningless moments where I’m sitting listening to music, or watching a movie, or eating dinner mean something to you. For they are not mere moments but rather opportunities for you to run in and wreak havok. You creep into my mind and tear it apart, littering it with unwanted thoughts and unneeded pain. You move from my mind to my heart, tugging at its strings, making me overly sensitive and worrisome. From there you travel into my stomach, punching and kicking, leaving me feeling worn out and defeated. After that you travel all over me, wherever you please, leaving little traces so that I will never fully be rid of you.
Why do you continuously make me think that I am worthless or a failure? Why is it that you make me question every interaction that I have with people, wondering if they really care or if their words are just lies? Why must you cause me to feel fifty emotions at once, not knowing which one is the right one? Why do you cause me to care so much about everything to the point where I can’t let anything go?
When it is finally time to go to bed at night, I am left lying awake for ages as you attack me from inside my own brain. I will never understand why it is that you do this to me. I will never know why I was blessed with the gruesome task of providing housing for you. But there is one thing that I am certain of: I hate you and I always will.
Sincerely,
An exhausted victim
