Dear Anxiety,
Don't take this the wrong way, but I sincerely wish that you were a physical being. Because if you were, then I would stuff you in a blender and watch with a smile.
I hate you. I hate everything about you. I hate how I will think I'm getting better and then suddenly, you're busting open a window to get in again.
I hate how I will be with a group of friends whom I love and suddenly, you punch me in the stomach and I can't think straight. I'll feel like they all actually hate me and feel bad, so they pretend. Because it's a lie you tell me everyday.
I hate how there will be something so small, so trivial, yet it seems like a giant in my path because of your stupid whispers.
...do you know the pressure at home? The constant need for me to have my mask on? I can't afford this. There are too many people probing my mind, daring me to mess up one last time.
I can't afford to mess up again. To be put in the public's eye as they see my new misadventure and then experience the disappointment of those I'm trying so hard to make proud.
...I'm tired of being the odd one out. Of feeling like I'm constantly suffocating. Of feeling like the misfit, though I am. I'm just so tired... I'm exhausted honestly.
I wish I could hit you with a baseball bat.
Sincerely,
Constantly Anxious
YOU ARE READING
strengthened by force
PoetrySometimes we don't choose if we're strong, because we have to be. We cannot choose the cards we are dealt with, but we can choose our reaction. __________________________________ STRONG (strông) adj. strong·er, strong·est 1. a. Physically powerful...
