Anxiety is like walking up the stairs too fast.

You can't catch your breath.

It feels like a matter of life or death.

And your mind tells your body it's serious.

You fight to find stability,

But the world around you is moving faster than your feet.

Anxiety is bright, bright light.

A dark, blurry tunnel surrounded by white.

It is scorching heat,

Rising from your feet.

Filing the blood vessels right beneath,

Your vulnerable skin, so sleek.

Constricting your heart as well as your mind,

As you fight just to find,

A single sentence lost in tangled thoughts.

But your ability to think clearly comes to a screeching halt.

It feels like biking down a hill too fast and it's not your fault,

When the tires flip you over the handle bars onto the asphalt.

You lay there speechless unable to comprehend. 

You feel like your life is coming to an end.

As it flashes before your tunnel visioned eyes,

At that moment you despise,

Your aching soul that's been compromised,

By the conniving words that endlessly float through your mind.

She will never escape from my head.

No matter how many tears I shed.

No matter how many years ago I fled.

No matter how many drinks, I still pretend

That I am fine.

But I always hear her in the back of my mind.

I just want peace in a positive mind,

But until then I'll pretend that I'm fine.

Because anxiety is like walking up the stairs too fast,

And I still haven't caught my breath.

The first time I was able to remember you

I was still a little girl.

Sitting on the table in the doctor's office

I’m ready for my check up.

I've been here before and I'm not scared

Until the doctor lifts up my shirt.

Darkness floods my mind

And all I see is you.

My parents didn't understand

Why I was screaming in fear

But I'm sure the doctor blamed them.

I have not slept through one night

Since this first incident,

Where you haven't tormented me.

I have not felt one hand upon my skin

That I can trust

Since that day you silenced me

And stole my life away.

I've carried our secret with me

Up until this point.

But I'm so tired

And this just steals more of me

Every single day.

I don't know how to break my silence

Even if I wanted to

Because I know speaking the truth

Will never fix this damage.

You're the face responsible

For the flashbacks

That now control me.

Justice has been served

On behalf of another

And you finally got what you deserved.

But that could never replace

The life I had

Before you ruined me.

You give and you give and you give.

Because you love him and for him you live.

You expect the same in return but how can he love you as much as he loves his drugs?

He promises to change and says you're the only thing he loves.

You should know better since you've been through this before.

But every time love comes knocking at your door,

You forget to care for yourself because all you can think about his him.

And he tells you such beautiful things.

And he promises you the universe.

And you're so happy you forget to love yourself first.

All of your burdens become my own.

When I am already struggling to stay afloat in this home,

This prison I call my mind and body.

And you tell me you understand and you love me.

But your words have always been different than your actions.

And I've tried so hard to be patient.

To help you, to love and support you.

No matter the pain I am silently going through.

You're this sinking, black hole sucking me in.

And suddenly this love seems more like this painful sting.

My heart hurts but I ignore it,

Because losing you just isn't an option.

And I cry into my pillow every night.

Hating myself for letting this happen again despite

The last time I told myself I was done.

I needed to escape, I needed to run.

All my life I've been running away from myself and into the arms of anyone who said they loved me.

Because I thought it would make me happy.

But this pain I carry deep inside

Affects me every day of my life.

And the longer I ignore it

The more extreme it becomes.

You helped me through some of it but mostly you helped me to ignore it.

And together we created a bad habit

Of drinking and forgetting our problems

Of dwelling in the past.

Of putting our own needs last.

Never working on getting better.

Dreaming of the life we'd spend together

Once we were better and able.

Once we were stronger and more stable.

But I am trying and learning and growing

As you are denying and lying and showing

Me that you will never change.

And all these bad habits still remain.

I tried so hard to take you with me on this journey.

But I'm sitting on the shore watching you float out to sea.

I begged and I pleaded and even threatened to leave you. 

You changed for a week, maybe two.

Then you went back to your old ways and I followed.

And every concern I had I swallowed.

In this pain I wallowed.

And together we hit the bottle.

These bad habits, they consume me.

When all I want is to be free.

I want to learn to love myself as much as I love you.

And that means putting down the bottle and unfortunately you too.

You wonder about her sometimes, about where it went wrong. 

The week before you remember sitting together in your office's mismatched chairs. She'd sounded better, and you had commented on her progress. 

She cried but she talked too, and you knew she was holding back, but that was okay because getting better was a process and she was trying. 

She seemed optimistic about life, looking toward the future. You remember noticing that. 

You recommended she watch Midnight in Paris before next appointment. She told you she would. 

You talked about her life: she had finals coming up, and then she'd head back to her parents. She said she didn't want to go home, but she was looking forward to leaving school after the semester. 

She'd asked about your plans. Most people didn't ask - so you told her about finishing grad school, maybe opening a place of your own. She said she thought that was cool. 

You exchanged pleasantries after scheduling another appointment - next Tuesday at 10 - and she headed out. 

She didn't show up that next Tuesday, because by then she'd been dead. 

They told you this was part of the job, and that there was nothing more you could have done. They told you it was by hanging. 

This surprised you. You had expected it to be pills. 

They said it wasn't your fault, but somehow you felt like it was. You were suppose to be helping her.

You knew more about her than her family, friends, or anyone in her life. You weren't invited to her funeral.

You think about her a lot, like you are now. You think about it on good days and bad days and strange days, and you think about how trapped she'd said she felt by all these people mourning her. 

She was your one, like most in the profession have. The case they got attached to, the one that went wrong. 

You open up your own business, like you told her you would, after you graduate in July.

You try and make a difference. That's all you can do. Maybe you couldn't save her, but it's not too late to help other people struggling. At least, that's what you tell yourself on days like these. 

Your mind always comes back to that last appointment. God. You should have done more.

You know it's not your fault.

But you still fucking wish you'd done more.