The shaking of a hand
The shortness of breath
The good days and the bad
Not knowing what is coming next
Will I have an attack today?
Will someone see my hands shake?
Will I finally fall apart?
Everyone says, "stop shaking, and breathe normally"
Yet they do not understand, what is it like
To not even have control of your own hands
It is not that easy you see
Because I have to breathe
yet my brain does not let me
It tells me no, you can't do this
You aren't smart enough
You are irrelevant
This is what I came to believe because of my anxiety
I tell myself I can't do it, that I am not smart enough
And as the week goes there are more bad days than good
The monster grows and tries to take over me
When it is through with me will I still be me?
Or will I become my anxiety?
I will fight back!
I will not let this monster become me
I will eradicate anxiety from my vocabulary
I will remove all thoughts of self doubt
I will forget fear
I will become a better me
If it takes days weeks or years
I will fight
I will never stop
Until the day there is
No Shaking of a hand
No shortness of breath
Only good days and no bad
To be able to breathe
To be able to sit still
To be able to be just me
And not my anxiety