Posted in Confessions, Creative Writing, Self-Talk, What Just Happened: Personal Anecdotes

Dear Anxiety

I see you standing there.  I remember when you started.  I remember the moment when you showed your face in the mist of a random moment.  I couldn’t take the tasks and the fears, and the rules, and the obsessions, and the self induced heart breaks, and the frequent rejections.   I injected you into me.  Like a drug I didn’t take.  It was a present moment where I felt the symptoms.  I fell sick from the exhaustion of perfect perceptions of normality and nature.  I wasn’t this and I wasn’t that.  I wasn’t good enough for this, and that, and him, and her, and that thing that dictates success and a better life.   

I remember you when I was a little girl.  Your face was new.  No one liked me and I didn’t want to go to school.  I’d rather stay at home where the noise was less loud, and I had my barbie dolls to keep me company and cleaning to sooth me with my head in the clouds.  I remember having dreams where I was someone else and everything I knew was the dream and I would wake up and everything was different, but every morning reality hit me.  Nothing was different nothing changed.

But what was different from then and now is that I repressed you and thought you had gone away.  The fear in religion took over and I was scared of that too.  Heaven and hell, but you came back and here’s how.

I remember you were there when I hated myself and I didn’t talk for three days.  You were there when I met depression too and it wanted to stay.  I remember you when I couldn’t sit in that meeting because all they promised was stress and pain.  I remember you when I thought my dog would be real sick and not be able to come home to tame you in my brain.

I remember you when I thought they’d be disappointed in me because I was a failure and I was the weakest link.  I remember you when they called me ugly and low self esteem was around and annoyed me like a leaky sink.  I remember you when I went to the counseling psych centers, you were there sitting with me.  I remember you sitting in two places, outside and inside, it was fall semester my senior year and that test, the GRE, made you show your true intentions.

I felt the nausea in my stomach every moment of every day.  My head to the ground because I couldn’t look my fear in the face.  I feel the headaches coming on and the craving for sleep, but constantly staying awake because I had so much to do but my motivation was down to my feet.  You boiled over and I was afraid to live.  Every day was a struggle, but I survived it.

I know what makes you spark and what makes you sleep now, and it’s kinda crazy.  Only one year since you’ve been full blown ruining my life, but I’m not going to let you take me.  Some days are harder than others, and sometimes I don’t want to wake up, I get scared of the sun coming up because that means I have to push myself to do something.

Let me tell you something, and I laugh at this now, but I understand where you came from and you’re unacceptable and something I won’t allow.  Running through the history of how you came to be, my self-realization and power is greater than you’ll ever be.  With my beliefs and my strengths, my spirit, my drive, and my motivation you won’t get fed anymore because what’s inside of me is pure love and it’s hungry.

So I thought I’d write you this letter to show myself that I conquered you for good and that you are something of my past I can talk about freely and unafraid as I should.


                                                                                                                                      Your Past Prisoner  


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