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Now before you go judging it, I just want to say that this is what goes on in my mind when I have an anxiety attack. This is my monster. His name is Anxiety. Tonight he attacked. It was the worst one I've ever had. I never have them bad enough where I hurt myself...I'm surprised I didn't draw blood. I dug my fingernails into my arm and tore a little skin. It'll probably be bruised in the morning. Anxiety is content for the moment. But I don't know when he'll strike again.
