Dear Anxiety,

You’ve haunted my days for a while now and there’s just a few things I’d like to get off my worn out, suffocated chest.

You make me feel like the world is on stop, but I’m going 10901901mph, you make me dizzy, you make me feel physically sick and you make me feel like I’ll never be able to achieve absolutely anything. You make me doubt, you make me feel weak and you make me want to shut off the world and not get out of bed in the morning.

You make me want to sleep, but you keep me awake even more. You’re there at 11am, you’re there at 2pm and you’re there when I’m spending hours at night counting sheep to get to sleep. You’re part of my every day; but I wish you weren’t.

I’ve lost friends because of you, I’ve lost relationships and I’ve lost potential partners all because you tell me that everyone’s out to get me, that everyone has bad intentions and no one will ever care about someone like me. You tell me that the nicest of people are putting on an act, bored of me, bored of my crap and that they’ll never have the capacity to ‘put up with me’. Those that beat you, you make me question every little thing they do because you make me ask myself why anyone would stick around that long or why would anyone want to be with me…

Why would anyone care about me?

You tell me that unanswered texts, phonecalls and messages are just a sign that people don’t want to talk to me – not because people are busy elsewhere and that they don’t have the capacity to message me back yet.


You tell me that when people tell me their word, they’re lying. That no-one is trustworthy and that I may aswell give up on hope now. You make me want stability but you make me more unstable than anything else.

When interested in someone – you tell me that every single thing they haven’t liked on social media is a sign that they’re not interested and that everything they’ve liked of someone else’s is a sign that they want to ‘bang them’ or ‘date them’ instead.

You make me hate myself even more than I already do, you make me question myself and you make me want the lights to turn off.

You make me feel like I’m on the longest, scariest, fastest rollercoaster, with no end.

You literally eat me up inside.

You play out scenarios in my head that will never come true and make me expect the worst in people, in work, in life.

You tell me I’ve done everything wrong, you make me triple read texts and emails.

You keep me awake at night, you make me sleep in the day and you eat every little ounce of happiness I have in me.

You tell me I’m turning into my Dad and that I’ll soon succumb to the way I lost him.

I hate everything you are, I hate everything I am when you’re around; but I will beat you, hopefully.

Lots of hate,



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