Ａｎｘｉｅｔｙ

I wake before the world moves.

My body is tense before my thoughts even start.

I cannot stop thinking.

Every mistake I’ve ever made screams in my head.

Every word I said wrong,

Every time I disappointed someone I loved,

Every time I disappointed myself.

‎

I try to move.

My hands shake.

My chest tightens.

My stomach twists.

I try to breathe, but it is never enough.

‎

I lie to everyone.

“I’m fine,” I say.

I hide in rooms.

I avoid people.

I avoid myself.

I tell myself it will pass,

But it never does.

‎

I want to scream, but my voice dies inside me.

I want to cry, but the tears are silent.

I feel guilty for feeling this way.

I feel guilty for being alive.

I feel guilty for needing help.

‎

I cannot rest.

I cannot trust my body.

I cannot trust my mind.

I am trapped in it.

‎

And still, I get up.

I go to work.

I pretend to be okay.

I eat.

I sleep.

I survive.

‎

I am anxious.

I am scared.

I am exhausted.

I am alive.

I am still here.