It's like it has a hand around your heart, and it's squeezing. Do you know what happens when your heart stops? You die. It's like the Devil has it's hand around your heart and it's squeezing the life out of you one tear at a time, one attack, one breakdown and one lost friendship at a time.
Some days all I want to do is cry. I want to go to the girls bathroom and huddle in the corner, and just cry. Maybe I don't have a reason and maybe I don't need a reason it's just an ache in my heart, like an existing injury that starts to flare up. And then someone injures it again.
After you're done crying, do you just sit there emotionless like there's nothing you could feel or do? Sometimes I forget what I was crying about. Did I even have a reason? And then you have to get up, and put on your mask because if someone sees you, they will know everything.
Everyone else can be themselves but you have to wake up and build your wall so that nothing can ever get in. But when something seeps through a crack, everything around you crumbles and you're left with nothing. It's as if someone took a sledgehammer to the blockade against your wild thoughts and the rest of humanity because they didn't think you deserved to have your sanity. And you think: Maybe I don't?
But what if they didn't break down your wall, what if you let them in? What if you thought that one person could understand you? They gave you a smile or a look, maybe you brushed their hand, and you thought: maybe they get it, maybe they can already see me. So you let them in to see your rampant thoughts, the vicious things you tell yourself. Maybe they'll accept you for who you are. Or maybe they'll destroy everything and you'll be left with nothing.
YOU ARE READING
The Untitled Story of an Anxiety Disorder
RandomI'm the girl who is always there for people when they need a friend but I am also the girl who faces many issues alone, but would still do anything to see someone else smile. This is the diary of someone living with anxiety. Some people might think...
