My anxiety is like...
Tons of pebbles.
For each fear that overwhelms me
Twelve more are added to my pockets.
It's a weight I carry constantly.
And
Hope to me,
Is a warm beach.
It's the sun shining on the cool water and sand.
So beautiful...
But when anxiety comes crashing in,
Harboring rain and thunderstorms...
I drown.
It's like a riptide pulling me un
My anxiety is like...
Tons of pebbles.
For each fear that overwhelms me
Twelve more are added to my pockets.
It's a weight I carry constantly.
And
Hope to me,
Is a warm beach.
It's the sun shining on the cool water and sand.
So beautiful...
But when anxiety comes crashing in,
Harboring rain and thunderstorms,
I drown.
It's like a riptide pulling me under,
Dragging me deeper and deeper
Into an unremorseful sea
That is my mind.
And I can't fight it.
The tons of pebbles in my pockets
Weigh me down
Making it impossible to leave the floor.
It's like that one scene in Aladdin,
Where he's thrown into the water,
Left to die.
But the genie saves him...
But you see
The difference between him and me
Is that
I don't have a genie.
I don't have someone to wish upon to save me from myself.
So I lay there on the floor while my lungs fill with water.
Muck of embarrassing memories
And hideous thoughts
That I know aren't true,
But I'm forced to believe them...
My anxiety is like...
This poem.
I overthink things,
And explain things dramatically.
Things as simple as saying your name.
But when I say my name,
I have to go into detail
As to why I was named that.
In an irrational fear
That someone will think I'm like every other Katie.
Which I'm not-
You see:
I'm a Katie who's name isn't short for Katherine.
I'm a Katie who was named after her Grandma's
Favorite movie-
Gone with the wind-
Which,
Ironically,
Is where it'll end up...
Every thought ever held
In this poisoned mind,
Wiped away in a hurricane called death...
And the thought of no longer existing
Fills my lungs with water,
And disgusting muck,
Again.
Because I question why I choose to keep living,
Knowing that one day my entire existence
Will be nothing.
That I will be nothing.
And you could feed me reasons to stick around for years.
But I'll still vomit what If's and why's,
Even after my stomach has expanded to hold every reasoning you feed me.
It's not even the fact of one day being forgotten.
It's the fact that I'm existing now,
That I'm breathing,
But no one knows I'm alive...
I feel as if I could disappear now,
And the world wouldn't notice...
So I question myself again
As to why I choose to keep living.
When I'm already nothing.
And the only answer can come up with is:
I don't know...
Maybe your reasons make some sort of sense to me.
Or maybe it's because
Even when I'm drowning,
I can still see a sliver of hope on the surface,
Just out of my reach.
And I can't help but wonder
That if I kick hard enough,
If I could reach it...
If I drop these pebbles,
These fears,
If I'll float again
And be able to breathe...
But I'm drowning,
I'm defeated.
These horrible thoughts
And irrational fears
Are anchors.
My tons of pebbles
And water-filled lungs.
They define me in this moment.
I'm not...
I'm nothing.
But I wish,
I hope,
I can be
Something.
Someday
