Anxiety, what are you up to?
Hey, voice inside of my head, what are you up for this time? Are you taking me on another journey of self hate and loathing, are you gonna scream at the child inside of me until I lose it again? Are you gonna convince me again of how worthless I am and how it would have been better for everyone if I was just never born again? Are you gonna try and erase every ounce of self acceptance I might have gathered again? Are we gonna play the game of what ifs and so whats again, running in circles with each other trying to prove that one of us is wrong again?
How do you do it? How come I end up losing the battle every time? How do I always end up being the small child huddled in the corner, crying and screaming in agony, mentally and physically? It must look funny to an outsider, to see someone crying and yelling at themselves, but I’m not yelling at myself; I’m yelling at you, anxiety, I’m yelling at you because I’m tired and because it hurts.
You are always there, watching me, watching everything I do and going like “Tsk tsk tsk, you worthless piece of shit, you know no one cares and you know you fucked up, why don’t you just kill yourself already?”. You are always fucking there, always fucking there watching me. You want me to give up, you want me to believe you, you want me to submit to you..and guess what, you succeeded; I hate myself because of you.
Yes, I fucking hate myself, with passion, which is way I insist on using the word ‘fucking’ because it shows here how passionate I really am about fucking hating my-fucking-self. This hate is more passionate the the most passionate stories you’ve ever heard, it’s so passionate that there aren’t enough ‘fuck’ words to explain it. And it is only growing stronger ever damn day.
I’ll ask those around me a bunch of silly questions and apologize a thousands times over and over again for things that weren’t even that much of a big deal; I’ll ask if they are mad, if I did something wrong, if this and if that and I’ll apologize for this and that and people get tired of this I know but I need it. I need to ask and I need to apologize and I need it to hear it from them, I need another voice along side my voice that can shut you up, I need anther voice that I can use to silence you and to prove you wrong.
I found a little cure, it’s more of a numbing method than a cure but man does it feel amazing to get rid of you for a few hours! Sometimes it’s a pill, sometimes it’s something else but who cares as long as you are gone, as long as I’m normal. First time it happened, I felt like I was on top of the world, I felt normal, there wasn’t anyone in my head yelling at me and there wasn’t anything of my head that makes me question every little thing that I do; it felt fucking amazing and I did not miss you at all…however, it seemed you did because you were back hours later with a sly smile on your face, you knew I wasn’t strong enough to fight you by myself, you knew you can break me when I’m all alone…