A Reason To Breathe

The Pain, The Broken, The Anxiety

Anxiety, why?
Why do you make me feel this way? Why do you control me? Why do you make me want to hurt myself?
Why?
I'll tell you why.
You do it because you love being on top, you love to be the dominant of this relationship.
You love the feeling of being in control.
But that grip you have around my throat, is only going to get your host killed.
But then what? Then will you hop to another person, and make their life a living hell just as you'd done to me?
You'll never stop, will you? You'll make everyone hurt.
Now I write this letter to you anxiety;
In hopes to save lives, I've used my last moments on you.
You ruined my life, turned in into my own personal pit of death and suffering.
You made me hate the ones that I loved the most, and then love the people who'd hurt me.
You made it impossible for me to trust anyone.
You made me accept the fact that this was now my life.
You made me into who I am now.
You would worry me that I wasn't good enough, that I would never be good enough.
You turned my into someone I don't even recognize.
But why?
For that power? The craving of control?
Well congratulations, you've accomplished you're mission.
You made me hate myself to the point where I don't even care.
I hated not being good enough for anyone's standards.
I hated for feeling that I wasn't good enough, only to find out I was exactly right.
Don't you see what you have done? What you have caused?
You destroyed the person I was and replaced my with a robot that is being manipulated by you.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I tried again this morning. The pain. It hurts. 

Love you all.