When People Imagine Anxiety

When people imagine anxiety

They think of dark corners in their minds.

They think of constant terror, fear of the unknown

Or worse, the thing we feared would happen

Happening.

They think of diffi-

Culty

Breathing.

They think of s a k g hands and

h i n

racingthoughtsgthatcometooquicktoprocess.

They imagine this demon that walks behind you,

Whispering sweet nothings about

“No one likes you.”

“You’ll never be good enough.

“Quit bothering them, you’re so annoying.”

“Just go away and disappear. It’s what you do anyway.”

But what they miss is the irritability

How your best friend just wanted to help you and you snapped,

While they look dumbfounded, like you struck them.

And you did. Just not with a hand but a sharp word, or insult

Not thinking of the blade you just shoved towards them.

What people also miss is how your protective shell has been shredded,

Like a paper mâché creation made to keep out the hardships,

The pain, the demon’s words,

The rushing storm of never being good enough,

Through a whirlwind of loneliness and fear of overcrowded places.

No.

Anxiety is a lot more than that.

Anxiety is a lifestyle no one had opted to choose, but was gifted

By a mind filled with too much fight-or-flight tendencies,

That now you can’t tell if you should run from everything or

Anything at all, so you just run or stay and pray.

They don’t tell you anxiety comes in,

Constant pacing to get your feet to move fast enough,

To chase after your thoughts racing too far ahead of you.

They don’t think of a girl with a far-away look in her eyes,

Not realizing the torment that was underneath as she spaces-out,

Not daydreaming of her future success and achievements but,

Locked in a cage with beasts known as “Social Gatherings Where You know No-One",

“Group Presentation Projects”,

“Will That Abusive Ex Ever Leave Me Alone”,

And, “Why Am I Too Tired To Do What I Need To?”.

When people imagine anxiety,

They don’t think of me,

Until they see my hands begin to s h a k e.