Hi, anxiety.

It's been a little while since we talked last. I know we don't interact quite as much as we used to. You're still there, though. I feel and hear you sometimes when it's late at night or when my mind starts to wander. And you're still as much as a jerk as you used to be, don't worry.

You still plague my life from time to time with racing heartbeats, sleepless nights, and those terrible bouts of shortness of breath. Sometimes you make me feel really scared. Other times, you make it hard for me to even get out of bed.

It's been 13 years since I was diagnosed with you, anxiety. These years have been filled with an innumerable amount of difficulties. A lot of the times, you've made me feel like you've won. It's hard to feel like a functional human when I've got you sitting on my chest. You suck pretty bad, you know.

But then again, I look back on the last 13 years and I can't help but to notice all of the crazy, insanely good things that have happened too. I finished high school. I got into college, which I'm about to finish with a pretty stellar GPA. I've found a career aspiration that I really love and want to pursue. And I have so many people in my life who genuinely care about me.

You do make me question these things sometimes. Do the people around me really care about me or are they just going to leave? Am I really going to be successful in life or am I just setting myself up for disappointment? Is my degree really going to matter?

But then, I have those moments where I wonder why I'm wondering all of these things. Then, I realize it's just you asking all of those questions, anxiety. You're trying to fill my head with a bunch of negative thoughts that don't really serve any other purpose than to make me freak out about my life. You don't drive me forward.

I think that's been the best part of the last 13 years, learning to discern what are my thoughts from what are your thoughts. I've taught myself pick you out from the crowd and reassure myself that all the negativity i'm feeling is just you, sitting on my shoulder in an attempt to ruin things.

You don't have the same hold on me as you used to, anxiety. You used to be really good at holding me down. You did it very successfully a lot of the time. But now, I've noticed that you're losing your touch. I'm stronger than you, I'm realizing. And I think I always have been. I just didn't see it before.

So keep on doing what you're doing, anxiety. You're going to keep growing weaker. Your hold on me will lessen more and more over the years. While you may still catch me from time to time, your place in my life is ever-shrinking. I know how to defeat you more and more, and it's only time before I possess the tools to silence you for good.