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Literature Text
Dear anxiety,
I went to the psychologist today
and was diagnosed with social anxiety disorder.
It all fits:
the tense muscles,
the unremitting shyness,
the insomnia,
the visits from murderers in my nightmares,
the indefatigable worry.
I finally understand what my problem is.
It's you.
Dear anxiety,
Your poisonous tendrils
wrap themselves around
my panicky, thumping heart
and squeeze it until it almost stops.
If I was ever able to pry them apart,
I’m sure they would leave permanent bruises
in the ugliest shades of olive and mauve.
(Let me go
let me go
let me go.)
Dear anxiety,
I have a ten ton weight resting
on my taut, rigid shoulders thanks to you.
My heart always knows your presence,
trembling uncontrollably
with your mere suggestion.
Thoughts about being negatively judged
chase each other throughout my mind and
tangle themselves into an intricate, jumbled mess
until I don’t know what I am thinking anymore.
See what
you've done
to me?
Dear anxiety,
I discovered the reason
behind why you’ve stuck
with me all these years.
You’ve been there for me
since day one of my existence
when I was born too early
and only a pound and a half
of skinny bones and fragile, discolored flesh.
Surrounded by beeping monitors
and stabbed with intravenous needles
for nine weeks before I could escape the chaos,
that is where you first discovered me.
Now I'm not
so sure I can tell
you to leave.
Dear anxiety,
Two years
since I was granted medication
to relieve myself of the burden of you,
I still can’t let you go.
You’re a constant presence
in my now peaceful, serene mind,
tormenting me with vivid hallucinations
of fear and humiliation like I had once known.
You take advantage of my
every weak and vulnerable moment.
When will you
ever let me
rest in
peace?
Dear anxiety,
I want to walk among the stars
and soar among the heavens
but you won’t let me.
It's time
I've learned
to live
without you.
I went to the psychologist today
and was diagnosed with social anxiety disorder.
It all fits:
the tense muscles,
the unremitting shyness,
the insomnia,
the visits from murderers in my nightmares,
the indefatigable worry.
I finally understand what my problem is.
It's you.
Dear anxiety,
Your poisonous tendrils
wrap themselves around
my panicky, thumping heart
and squeeze it until it almost stops.
If I was ever able to pry them apart,
I’m sure they would leave permanent bruises
in the ugliest shades of olive and mauve.
(Let me go
let me go
let me go.)
Dear anxiety,
I have a ten ton weight resting
on my taut, rigid shoulders thanks to you.
My heart always knows your presence,
trembling uncontrollably
with your mere suggestion.
Thoughts about being negatively judged
chase each other throughout my mind and
tangle themselves into an intricate, jumbled mess
until I don’t know what I am thinking anymore.
See what
you've done
to me?
Dear anxiety,
I discovered the reason
behind why you’ve stuck
with me all these years.
You’ve been there for me
since day one of my existence
when I was born too early
and only a pound and a half
of skinny bones and fragile, discolored flesh.
Surrounded by beeping monitors
and stabbed with intravenous needles
for nine weeks before I could escape the chaos,
that is where you first discovered me.
Now I'm not
so sure I can tell
you to leave.
Dear anxiety,
Two years
since I was granted medication
to relieve myself of the burden of you,
I still can’t let you go.
You’re a constant presence
in my now peaceful, serene mind,
tormenting me with vivid hallucinations
of fear and humiliation like I had once known.
You take advantage of my
every weak and vulnerable moment.
When will you
ever let me
rest in
peace?
Dear anxiety,
I want to walk among the stars
and soar among the heavens
but you won’t let me.
It's time
I've learned
to live
without you.
Literature
social anxiety.
i'm sorry,
but we can't talk.
not now, not ever.
because i may say
something i'll
regret later.
because i may make
you feel very
uncomfortable.
because i may just
stop breathing for
the rest of the day.
because i may upset
you and you'll run
away forever.
i hope you understand
i'm only doing this
for your own good.
it's not really for me.
i can just feel it.
and it's not good.
my throat tenses up.
my head throbs around.
my fingertips stop feeling.
i'll stop wishing i were
here and start wishing
i were in the ground.
six and a half feet under
would be much better
than speaking out loud.
silence escapes my lips
as
Literature
Anxiety
I sat alone another day.
The world was moving all around me,
but it seemed as if my life was in a standstill.
The doctors say its anxiety.
Everyone thinks anxiety means nervousness or fear,
but it is deeper than that.
Anxiety holds you prisoner.
You can't leave your house.
Ding
Dong
Ding
Dong
The doorbell rings but I can't answer.
There is too much fear inside.
You can't answer the phone.
Ring
Ring
Ring
"Telephone for you!" my family yells. I
tell them to say that I will call back, but I won't.
You can't eat.
Chomp
Bite
Chew
No, not me. The anxiety
even controls that. All the pain rushes back up with
every little thi
Literature
Anxiety Disorder
I feel worthless, useless.
A pest, a weight, ruining everything.
I feel broken, shattered, like glass.
I have no hope, no light.
Feeling like running away.
From everything that curses me.
I don't feel like living with this anymore.
I feel like falling, endlessly, into the ocean.
Under the waves, choking, drowning.
Where I try to lift my hands up.
My body is heavy, my mind is scrambled.
I don't think normally anymore.
The words don't have a proper sentence.
I listen to their poison lies, over and over.
I can't do much else, it's the only thing in my head.
I've wished and worked hard.
To no avail have my efforts been.
So I suff
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PLEASE DO NOT USE THIS PIECE WITHOUT MY WRITTEN PERMISSION.
This poem was originally intended to be submitted as an entry for =TheLeavesOfMemory's For a Cause contest ([link]) but since I couldn't find anything visual to go with it, I'm going to have to think of something else.
This is purely non-fiction. I was diagnosed with severe Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD) and now I'm meeting with a psychologist every week to learn to manage stress and worry.
Studies have come out that babies born prematurely and in the hospital for a long time just after their birth (like me) suffer from high anxiety the rest of their lives.
Well, it's a small price for being able to live.
Telling someone with GAD to "just calm down" is absolutely useless. We know that a lot of the things we're worried about aren't worth stressing over but with anxiety disorders, our worry is unmanageable and interfere with our day-to-day lives. We feel that we have to worry or else we'll be caught completely unprepared if the worst happens.
I hope that through this, you realize that anxiety disorders aren't something made up, a joke, or just some stupid excuse. They are lifelong disorders and certainly aren't able to be fixed in an instant. Even with medication, I struggle with it every day.
To all who have anxiety, this is a tribute to you. Know that at least one person knows what you're going through or what you have gone through. You're definitely not alone.
EDIT: In the spring of 2010, I realized that Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD) seemed to be a more accurate diagnosis for what I was going through and so I worked with a therapist that specialized in SAD individually and with a social anxiety group. Initially, they rated me a 119 on the Social Anxiety Scale, which is very high to extreme, and by the time the group session was finished, I was a 39,which is considered to be below clinical diagnosis! It's gone up and down since then and it's still not entirely gone but I'm proud to say it's a whole heck of a lot better! So in the poem, I changed "generalized anxiety disorder" to "social anxiety disorder" and a few of the GAD symptoms to SAD symptoms.
This poem was originally intended to be submitted as an entry for =TheLeavesOfMemory's For a Cause contest ([link]) but since I couldn't find anything visual to go with it, I'm going to have to think of something else.
This is purely non-fiction. I was diagnosed with severe Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD) and now I'm meeting with a psychologist every week to learn to manage stress and worry.
Studies have come out that babies born prematurely and in the hospital for a long time just after their birth (like me) suffer from high anxiety the rest of their lives.
Well, it's a small price for being able to live.
Telling someone with GAD to "just calm down" is absolutely useless. We know that a lot of the things we're worried about aren't worth stressing over but with anxiety disorders, our worry is unmanageable and interfere with our day-to-day lives. We feel that we have to worry or else we'll be caught completely unprepared if the worst happens.
I hope that through this, you realize that anxiety disorders aren't something made up, a joke, or just some stupid excuse. They are lifelong disorders and certainly aren't able to be fixed in an instant. Even with medication, I struggle with it every day.
To all who have anxiety, this is a tribute to you. Know that at least one person knows what you're going through or what you have gone through. You're definitely not alone.
EDIT: In the spring of 2010, I realized that Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD) seemed to be a more accurate diagnosis for what I was going through and so I worked with a therapist that specialized in SAD individually and with a social anxiety group. Initially, they rated me a 119 on the Social Anxiety Scale, which is very high to extreme, and by the time the group session was finished, I was a 39,which is considered to be below clinical diagnosis! It's gone up and down since then and it's still not entirely gone but I'm proud to say it's a whole heck of a lot better! So in the poem, I changed "generalized anxiety disorder" to "social anxiety disorder" and a few of the GAD symptoms to SAD symptoms.
© 2009 - 2024 Candela-di-Vita
Comments52
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Dear, Anxiety,
Youre like a drug.
your absolute garbage for my health and ruin my life. Having anxiety is a curse