Dear Anxiety,

Did you know that I don’t think about you? Well, not in the conscious sense.

Sometimes I can tell you will accompany me, before there is any physical sign of you. You’ve been a close companion.

I watch my shadow dance with your steps- we almost look like we are having fun. But I catch you peeking out just a tad too far- so I hush you behind my sun lit steps- banning you back to my shadows’ space.

But you know the dance too well.

In a very real sense-you’re a ghost- that takes the shape of my whole body.

You are me, and I love you, but you are often not wanted.

You actually ruin some of my days. You have ruined some of my best moments.

It must hurt to be unwanted- when all you want is attention. You scream- pay attention!

No, you are not in my conscious mind. But I feel you before I think about you- what is that? How can you have such control?

I practice yoga, you know. Shouldn’t that count for anything?!

You are more of a lingering afterthought, or maybe, a pre-thought? Does word exist? Why can’t I think of the right word? You’re… you’re…

Nothing. Anything. I can’t think of how to describe your ghost like being.

Didn’t I learn anything in school!

Words, why can’t I think of the right words?

Maybe I am not so good at this writing thing– I can’t even think of a word to describe you– and you’re so common!

Pffft! I call myself a writer. What if no one reads what I write? Or worse, what if I don’t like what I write. What if I stop writing?

Who will I be then? How will I feel everything so completely? Isn’t it worse to have no emotion than too many buzzing ones?

I will give you that, you make me FEEL. Which I love- and hate. You understand, don’t you? Does it hurt- to be both loathed and loved. Cherished and scrutinized.

Jeez, my mind races. My heart too. 

Oops, there you are. 

See I knew it. You take the most miniscule thought and you twist it, stretching my skin thin. Dragging out words and feelings, until a simple passing moment, lasts hours, or better yet, days, months, years.

You are a rubber brand who pulls me in every direction, building unnecessary tension- I hope I don’t snap. I probably will. Will I? 

Oh no, no. You see I can catch you- mid lie.

Yet, you still have power! How is that? I know what you feel like, I know  what you taste like. 

Acid, some days.

You’re disguised at first. You’re like an emotional roofy.

You are the kind that tastes ok going down, but then bubbles in your stomach, back up your throat. You fill my head and ears, and OH my chest. You fizz and pop and burn my whole body, scraping out the shape of my lungs to fit your bloody hands better. You don’t mean to harm, you think you know best. 

So, I need you right? You are my alarm system. My bell.

My “uh oh” something isn’t right!

But then why do you feel so wrong.

BREATHE. They tell me. I tell myself. You have felt this before, it will pass. It always does!

But what if it doesn’t?

Oh, I see again. Well played.


I am enjoying writing a series of letters to certain emotions and feelings.

There are over a billion scenarios that I could talk about and describe, although probably not particularly well- in regards to moments, hours, days, or weeks- where anxiety has been my closest companion.

It could be over the little things.

And it can be over the big things.

But aren’t those often one and the same? Anxiety shows no mercy when it comes to choosing her prey. It could be a sliding scale from, “Should I have said that?” to “This plane is 110% going to crash, should I connect to the wifi now in order to send my love and goodbyes?”

I truly think she means no harm- she is an alarm system of “hey- pay attention”- although I am trying to teach her that sometimes she is overly cautious and causes more harm that help.

She’s an overthinker, so we are one in the same.

I eventually hope to right a post about, “What Helps Me Through Anxiety” but as I am currently working through what those steps actually are– it will be for another time.

Lots of love for you and the universe.

Thanks for reading.

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