I sit in bed each night and think about the day I had. I think about how I find a sense of solace in watching anxious people. They're not hard to pick out if you look closely. In fact, everybody shows anxiousness at some point in their life. I think about how I can see it in the most simple of things. The hand that tremors up on stage while waiting to perform, the voice that wavers while presenting an important project, or the eyes that glaze over and unfocus in a room that is packed full of people. Mainly, I think about what anxiety does to me. It is not only something that consumes my mind, but it owns my thoughts, my social life, and my emotions as well.
There is this nasty voice inside my head. It talks to me all day long and I can never make it stop. Don't ask for help on this homework. The whole class is going to hear you. What if they think you're stupid? Even worse, what if the teacher thinks you're stupid? Words bubble up my throat, but my mouth will not release them. They end up building a wall until I can not breathe. Stupid. Blurs flash before my eyes as my lungs heave, begging for oxygen. I am drowning in thousands of thoughts as they crash through my mind on repeat like the waves of the ocean. Stupid. I can never focus on my school work as it becomes impossible, and panic seeps into my veins as my grades begin to waver. Stupid. During tests I become uncertain of what has been taught and everything looks like a forgotten, ancient language. Stupid, stupid little girl.
These feelings don't only happen because of the academics at school; social situations hinder me, too. Don't go. Your friends do not actually like you simply because you are that annoying. I walk into a party that one of my "friends" are having and everybody's laughter greets me. There is nothing that I dread more than that obnoxious, high-pitched, mocking noise. I must be the topic of conversation. They do not like you. They notice my arrival and call me over. Contribution to the conversation is rarely made, and opinions remain unvoiced. Annoying. Listening seems to be my best skill as a connection was never made with any of them. How could I when my voice is so annoying? Their entire group was solidified before they even knew I existed; therefore, I will never know any of them as well as they know each other. They just don't like you. In fact, they don't understand that I am merely in a glass box, observing them interact with each other. There are times where I contemplate making new friends that do understand, but the monster inside me doesn't take long to shred those thoughts before giving a reminder of why it is impossible to do that; talking is required. Annoying, friendless, little girl.
Social situations, such as friendships, are often an emotional rollercoaster. Stop getting so upset. You are such a cry baby. Not a single one of the thoughts or emotions that run through my mind belong to me. They are all formed and moulded by this demon within. My mind becomes foggy as my eyes once again glaze over. Cry baby. My nerves ignite and the entirety of my body is screaming in pain, yet I am numb. Cry baby. Hands grip the hair above my ears and begin to panic before I realize that they are my own. The voice never stops as it proceeds to drive me to the brink of insanity. Cry baby. I lost all control of my life, and my sanity is taking the same one way trip leaving a shell of the person I once was. Emotional, whiny, little girl.
I lie awake, beginning to feel drowsy, as I realize that anxiety is an internal bully that is entirely impossible to get rid of. It controls each and every one of my thoughts, it controls my social life, and it prohibits me from making new friends. I can no longer control my own emotions as anxiety has taken that, too. My brain continues to go haywire as I recall a quote I once saw. "You don't know why you're exhausted? You're fighting a war inside your head every single day. If that's not exhausting, I don't know what is" (Gluck). Finally, I think about how exhaustion is an amazing thing as the darkness closes in and for the first time in days, I am finally absorbed by the solace of sleep.
