What I Can't Tell You

One second I’m sitting there, laughing with my friends, no care in the world. The next all the happiness around me has disappeared. My lungs are empty. All I can do is think. Over and over and over again. Thought bounces around my head trying to escape. And I’m terrified. Not scared like a little kid in the dark. But terrified like someone who knows the world is about to collapse and everything will disappear.

I’ve had an anxiety disorder since I was 6. If you ask me I’ll say it’s not bad. It’s manageable and most of the time I’m ok. Not happy. But ok. For the last 13 years I’ve been trying to get rid of that haunting doom feeling that strikes without even having the courtesy of warning me. So far I haven’t found a way, it just passes.

The worst thing is how it affects my relationships. I try so hard to explain to the people I love how my anxiety works and why I feel that way. Most of the time they just nod their heads trying to understand, trying to find a common ground with me. I appreciate the sympathy, I really really do, but in the end it tears me apart when I see my pain reflected in their eyes. When I can hear tears in my mom’s voice when I call her at 2 A.M. because I just need to hear someone else’s thoughts. So I hide. I always stay an arm’s length away from being close with others. Although I have many friends, boyfriend, and an amazing family I still can’t tell people how I feel and they never know all of me. I disappear for hours literally running to try and get away from myself. I wish people knew about my mind. But more than anything I wish it wouldn’t hurt them if they did.