I know what you’re thinking: ‘really, again? More about the anxiety?’ And I hate that the answer is yes, probably more than you do. I wish it was something I could ignore. But it’s a part of me, whether I want it to be or not. And rather than sit in silence in my bedroom, I’d like to open a conversation, start a dialogue, remove some of the stigma surrounding anxiety. I know that it affects my family and friends. I hate that it does. It hurts me to see you suffering because of it. And trust me when I tell you that I really do see it, and I wish that there was something I could do about it. There are a lot of things that I do, thanks to the awesome feeling we call anxiety. Maybe you know the way these things affect me, and subsequently you. Maybe…

I get it, you’re tired of seeing my posts about anxiety. You wish I would just shut up about it. You think it’s ridiculous that I post so much about it, and you roll your eyes and wish you didn’t have to see it anymore. But you don’t have to. You can ignore the posts, pretend you don’t see the, scroll past them, choose not to read them. I can’t do that. I can’t just pretend it isn’t there.

In 2, 3, 4 Out 2,3, 4 “Just breathe” They say, as if I’m not already trying to do that But my heart is racing to the beat of a marching band And there’s a force holding my lungs hostage   “Just breathe” like it’s the most simple thing in the world And usually it is We don’t even think about it Until something is keeping us from doing it   In 2, 3, 4 Out 2, 3, 4 And the only thing I want at that moment Is to get away from all of these people Because I’m raw and unfiltered and in trouble   “Just breathe” but how does one Who’s drowning just breathe? There’s water washing over my head My legs are kicking fruitlessly, my hands reaching to the sky   In 2, 3, 4 Out 2, 3, 4 And I have to remind myself that there’s…

Not-so-dear-anxiety, I’ve seen you for a couple of weeks now, lurking in the corner. I’ve simultaneously been preparing myself for you, and trying not to think about you. Somewhere in between my all-day classes and my nightly practicing, you’ve managed to rear your ugly head once again. And here I was, thinking I was finally done with you. How could I be so silly? But really, you couldn’t have chosen a worse time to do it, what with all of the things I’ve got on my plate right now. And of course, how could I ever forget your lovely partner, panic attacks? I hope your marriage is going well. Believe me, Anxiety. I see that person walking towards me, but I really don’t think they’re going to do much of anything. You think they might look at us? Well shit, better give me a heart attack right here on the…

When it’s a bad day She’s got bags under her eyes And bags weighing her down And she’s put the most effort into working a smile onto her face   Her heart is pounding with every step Her hands are shaking And every look her way Feels like lasers burning holes in her   The demons in her head Are laughing hysterically Because everyone is looking And she’s hoping they don’t see her eyes   Because then they’ll see her In her natural, unaffected form With eyes like a scared animal and something squeezing her chest   When it’s a bad day She puts her head down Because dealing with people is so hard When she can’t even deal with herself   Nobody pays her much mind But it doesn’t matter Because her demons are singing And taking her breath away   When it’s a bad day She retreats into…