The Untitled Story of an Anxiety Disorder

Untitled Part 2

The anxiety will kill me. I know it. Only a couple people know how serious this is. They've seen me break down. They've seen the gates inside me open, they've seen everything flood out. They've been a partial witness to my pain, but they still don't know how bad it is. They don't know how hard I work to hide everything, to not let anyone know how hard it hurts. No one knows.

You know  those insecurities that kill you, that you can't help, and that everyone notices. When they point out that one little thing that is like a pressure point you can't help but laugh it off but inside you're dying because that is the one thing you wish you could hide. You feel like crying, disappearing, and the only thing is that no one can see how pained you are. You're alone.

Did you ever think that if they ever knew how much you were hurting, the pain you were going through, they would ask if you were okay, hug you, even look at you with a little compassion?Even a glance can go a long way, you can tell almost exactly what someones feeling from a glance. A glance could save your life.

The anxiety is like a stitch you can't get rid of. It sits at the bottom of your heart, but at the top of your brain. It controls you, what you do, what you say, even if you will wake up in the morning. It will always be there, sometimes just an ache and sometimes a piercing pain that makes you cry and hurt. A pain that makes you feel insecure when people look at you with your tear streaked face, red eyes and hole in you're chest where you're lungs are supposed to be but for some reason you can't find. Is that the reason I can't breathe?

I know I will someday die in my bed because I can't get out, Because it was too hard. Most people choose to get out of bed but for me, the anxiety controls me, and that day -- it wanted me to die.

See the difference between you and me is that when you wake up the nightmares end.