Anxiety

People tell me that being nervous is the same thing

As being anxious

"Oh, you'll be fine!"

"Just breathe!"

"Don't let it get to you."

"It's all...

In your head."

I don't have the heart to tell them how

Incredibly

Amazingly

Fantastically

WRONG they are

Being nervous. Adjective.

When you're unnerved or uncomfortable about the outcome

Of a specific action, like auditioning, turning in an essay

Or writing a piece of poetry.

Being anxious.

Anxious, anxious, anxious.

Even the word sends shivers up my spine

It makes me want to check the time

For no reason

Being anxious is like a race

A race where you're constantly last

When you look ahead of yourself and see the competitors

Crossing the finish line and you're just getting

Farther and farther behind

Anxiety makes you want to lock yourself up

In a mental dungeon when you have to make a phone call.

Walking in public and feeling every retina

Burning holes into your skin

Polka dots on your very existence

Convincing yourself that they can see every sin

Every flaw

Like only their eyes have the power to read your mind

With a single look, to study you like you're a book.

Anxiety isn't just in your head. It's inside of you

Squirming in your bloodstream like earthworms

Burrowing into your brain like maggots

It's when you feel yourself tied down to the thoughts you're taking a dive in

Thoughts that cloud your vision of thinking

And thinking and thinking and thinking

And thinking and thinking.

Resting on the couch, after a long day

Accomplishments settled into a nice little box in your mind

Suddently turns into thoughts

Buzzing like a swarm of killer bees and question marks

Swirling and swirling until...

It's like drowning.

Like an anchor of rattling thoughts pulling you down

Down further into darkness where nothing survives.

When the panic sets in

You can feel it

The fear rising in your throat like bile

Like demons clawing their way up your neck

Through your mouth

Threatening to spill like black ink over your lips

Threatening to let all horrors loose

How can nightmares be so easy to come by?

Anxiety is screaming brains, toxic pains, bloody viens,

Coffee stains, forgotten names, a fear of planes

A love for the sound when it rains

You let it define you

You let it control you

You let it consume you

Invisible to the naked eye of innocent passerbys

How can it be called weakness when you use so much strength for restraint?

How can it be called an illness when you can never see it

And yet it's always with you?

How can it be called "having anxiety" when it's not something you have

But more simply

Something you are?