It holds on like a hook threaded into my mind.
I try to shake it, try to grab onto any other thought, any other idea but the rest of the world seems to crumble away.
The words stay close to the forefront.
My mind fires them, like bullets to my already unstable confidence.
You’re an embarrassment.
You’re the source of their anger.
You are the disappointment.
The words, the details slam into my thoughts.
But the disease isn’t satisfied just controlling my mind.
I stammer. I shake.
The world around me spins. Vertigo. For so long I blamed the dizziness on colds or loss of blood.
But the truth is, its my mind.
The anxiety has such a strong hold on me that it shatters my physical being.
I see how it affects others.
I hear the exasperated sighs as my body trembles uncontrollably over something as seamless as answering a question or dialing a number.
I know I’m a burden.
I know I should be able to do simple things.
And I can.
The real me can.
The monster hooked on my brain is to blame, not me.
My anxiety is not me.
But it is my battle.
It is my own fight to face.
And I can, I will fight it.
Some days, I can do it myself.
I can strip away the self-doubt, the anger for who I am.
But other days, the monster is too strong for me.
I need patience.
I need encouragement. The smallest thoughts can affect me the most.
So to all those who pull me out, who stand by me, who see me for who I am beneath the layers and layers of self-torture- thank you.
I need you more then you know. More than you can comprehend.
And to those of you who don’t understand me yet- I’m sorry for pain I’ve caused you.
-for flaking last minute
-for taking days to respond to seemingly simple conversations
-for being awkwardly quiet at all the wrong times
It’s not me.
And at the same time, it is me. For now.
For now. But not forever.
I will fight this. I will beat this.
I will conquer my own mind.