Living with you is hard. You turn even the most relaxing moments, like a warm cup of coffee on a Saturday morning, into times of torment and heart-racing. Because of you, I'm impatient—to some, waiting may just be another facet of life, but for me, waiting is a torturous span of time where my thoughts and worries seem to take over.

You are a storm inside my mind that doesn't rest, that upsets the balance of everything else. I can't focus on anything except the feelings of panic and stress that you bring. You, as my anxiety, are the number one cause of all of my problems. My problems, perceived through a lens you provided, are bigger than they ever should be. You cause me to make things up, to change the way things really are, because you make me paranoid and worried. Don't even get my started on germs--everything I touch (especially raw chicken) can lead to hospitalized illness or even death. Washing my hands is a must at times like these.

Thanks to you, Anxiety, I don't see my body the way that I should. Instead of liking the way I look and who I am, my mind turns into a battle arena of thoughts about what someone might think when they see me or who's going to dislike me. Multiple scenarios play out of me stumbling over my words or saying something that makes me, and everyone else around me, feel uncomfortable. You make my natural extroversion turn inwards and hide away. Because of you, I oftentimes remain silent even when I have so much to say.

You cause me to worry about things that are out of my control and you make me feel helpless towards things that are in my control. Regardless of what I do, it never feels quite like it's enough to ease the nagging sensation that pulls at my navel, dragging me to a place where my stomach churns, my head spins, and my heart races against my rib cage.

Falling asleep is a nightly challenge. When I close my eyes, you play scenes against my eyelids that make me feel afraid and alone; when I open my eyes, the thoughts continue. You make overthinking an hourly task. Because of you, I have to constantly keep myself busy to stop my thoughts from getting out of control. If it was up to you, all I'd do day in and day out is think about everything that's ever made me anxious and everything that will ever make me anxious. Thanks to your presence in my life, even the smallest situations are overblown into events that need multiple pep-talks and prepping periods.

You can forget about me making friends easily. Regardless of how social I naturally am, thanks to you, I'm constantly second-guessing my personality, my words, and I compose so many different drafts of conversations before they happen that they seem unnatural whenever they actually do. You make talking to people a challenge that I'd rather just not accept. I don't even want to think about getting called on in class. Those kinds of situations send you into a form of anxiety that is hard to bounce back from.

Because of you, everything in my life is life-or-death. There are no "it's okay" or "everyone makes mistakes." Making mistakes to me and to you is like writing my own death sentence. You make the things that should be fun miserable.

Not only do you make me nervous and worried about basically everything, but you really have a talent for plummeting what could be considered a good mood. Whenever I am having a good time, you waltz in and muck it up for everyone. You are more than just nervousness—you are a bad mood, a sick stomach, and a headache that doesn't go away.

Living with you is hard, and sometimes, I feel like I'll never be able to be without you. It's difficult to explain to people what living with you on a regular basis is like--you're like the roommate that never does anything around the house except leave dirty dishes in the sink no matter how many times I beg you to put them in the dishwasher. If I was able to choose, I would not choose you. Yet here we are, trying to figure it out day after day.

However, regardless of your prominence in my life, there are moments where I don't feel your presence. Sometimes, I don't feel the heavy burden of you in the pit of my stomach that makes me sick. There are moments when I feel myself take back the control over my life--I feel calm, relaxed, at peace with what has happened and what will happen. Even if these moments are few and far between, they are there and they remind me that my life is in my hands. I get to make the decisions, I get to choose what I do and when I do it, and I'm the one who decides whether it's good enough or not. I'm the one in control, not you. Living with you is a daily challenge, but it's a challenge that I accept as part of me, and it's a challenge that I will always win.