(A/N: Inspired by the song "Anxiety" by Julia Michaels).
My friends invite me to the theater, I tell them to screw off, I'm holding hands with my depression. And right when I believe I've overcome it, anxiety starts kicking in to teach my bullshit a lesson. I try my hardest to be social, I make all these plans with my friends, but at the same time I hope they call and cancel. Then I begin to overthink about all the memories I'm missing. Now, I'm wishing I was with them.
But all my friends, they don't understand what it's like. They don't know why I can't manage to sleep through the night. I've been told I could take something to fix it. But damn, I wish it was that simple. And I got all these thoughts running through my head. I think I'm doing fine most of the time, I think I'm alright, but I can't seem to shut them off.
I'm sorry I don't give off the impression of having any manner of common sense. I'm sorry I double text. I'm sorry for not being able to write like you do. I'm sorry for regularly attempting to get your attention. I'm sorry I'm so loud, but it is the only way I manage to meet new people who help me get me out of my comfort zone. I think that if I am loud and I give off the feeling that I am always like this, I'll make friends. I'm sorry I'm inconsolable. I'm sorry to my friends for living under a rock and not understanding a joke or acronym in your text messages. And my friends'll figure I'm hard to deal with. And I admit it, it's true.
I feel like I'm always apologizing for feeling. Like I'm out of my mind when I should be doing just fine. But I'm blue.
My darkest teacher is sneaky. It's scary. It's taking too much from me. It's way too much for me to grasp.
I hide everything because if I don't, I fall hard. I end up falling with no one there to catch me. So I crash into the floor; broken and alone. It hurts. It hurts a lot. But I'll keep it to myself so it doesn't hurt anybody else.
Because
nobody
needs to get
cut
on my
broken
edges.
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