Anxiety

Gasping, struggling, I try to get back up

I know that I will do the same thing again tomorrow,

But still I worry that I will fuck it up.

 

I cannot get back up because my insecurities are holding me down

with chains made from people's stares and harsh comments.

I must constantly be aware of everything going on around me;

everything I do, everything I say.

My words must be chewed carefully before they are spoken

In case someone gets the wrong idea.

 

Anxiety. Noun.

A feeling of worry,

nervousness, or unease,

typically about an imminent event

or something with an uncertain outcome.

 

A mental disorder that causes panic and paranoia.

Difficulty speaking up,

going out,

being different in even the smallest ways.

 

My anxiety keeps me up at night 

with panic attacks and tears,

or wishing I could cry but not physically being able to.

Worrying over something I said,

something I did,

years ago that is now irrelevant.

 

My anxiety made me quit orchestra,

made me quit playing the instrument I love,

because the teacher made me have panic attacks

 

I have to give up things I once loved,

or would have loved,

Because my insecurities prevent me from doing them.

 

Anxiety is my prison,

my Bastille,

my personal Hell.

 

And yet, I am not sure about taking medication for it

Because I do not know who I am

without Anxiety looming over me like Death looms over cancer patients.

I do not know the person I would become,

the person I would be without anxiety,

and it frightens me.

 

My anxiety is not as bad as others'

and people tell me this all the time,

only making me feel invalidated.

Like I am begging for attention when I know I am not.

 

It is a parasitic relationship.

But for now, 

Anxiety holds me hostage.

And I have no choice but to allow it.