Dearanxiety Stories

Anxiety. Need I say more?

Letters speak when voice was unheard.

Just a lil sum

A poem to the thing inside

it's been awhile since i've done any type of writing such as this. consider this a continuation of my other Dear ____ series.

»I love my family with all my heart, but if they love me, how didn't they saw what I'm going through, how didn't they saw that I was only a shell, no life in my body anymore, that I was tired, that I was ready to end my life. Yes I didn't, because I thought I cannot do this to my family, but did they even really care about me? Did they care about me at all? Or do they? That's the question I'm asking myself every day.. is my life even worth it or am I just living it for my family. «

Inspired by the idea behind the movie "Collateral Beauty". These are my letters to the Universe. I'll write to my mental disorders, and some other things when inspired to do so. [Warning: I have a bad habit of swearing.]

Dear Anxiety, I don't like you very much. Sincerly, Drew. ------- Drew is a lost boy. As a teen orphan, the insecure 17 year old is clinically depressed and diagnosed with depression. He doesn't like university, he has no friends and he hasn't spoken a word to anyone in years. Then there's her. Emma. The girl in the back of his History class and the corner of his Creative Curriculum class. The one who wears the same outfit everyday - a grey baggy hoodie, faded black skinny jeans and a band shirt. She always has her mint green headphones in. Never talks either. Doesn't look up often. She's good at Art. They've never talked. But Emma has seen Drew's rare smile and Drew has seen her eyes. His amazing, award-winning smile that seldom appears. Her vivid ocean blue eyes with a hint of a dark green that look down at her faded blue Nike's. Drew writes to his anxiety. Emma paints her insecurities.