What's Your Problem?

What's your problem?

My problem is that I can’t breathe when I think of a test.

My problem is that my chest and arms and neck are scattered with hives from anxiety.

My problem is that my eyes fill with tears.

That I try to cover my face with my arms.

That I try to cover my neck with my hair.

That I try to breathe quietly so that you cannot tell that I’m struggling.

My problem is that I feel like I have to hide it.

That the bathroom stall is my best friend in these moments of problems.

And that it all is let loose until I hear the door open

and girls fix their makeup and hair

and gossip while I bite my tongue and hold my breathe

begging for them to leave.

My problem is that I can't control it.

That the tears well up unexpectedly.

My problem is that I stress out even when I shouldn’t.

That my head repeats the same phrases throughout the day

“you are not a number, you are not a number, you are not a number.”

That I have to fight the urge to dig my nails into my palm

when I create a fist from anger at myself for saying something dumb.

That I close my eyes and hear the fighting of

“that test does not define you...but it does… no it doesn’t, that's your whole life.”

It's like a battlefield in my head

each side fighting to be the master of my body

and I’m trying to control the war inside.

That the hives just appear;

and now I don’t even notice them until someone points them out.

That my uneven light breathes seem normal to me…

Until I realize that I am light headed

and that I'm no longer hiding my breathes,

I’m not breathing.

I’m holding it in.

Praying for it to fade waiting and waiting to be normal.

But I cannot control it.

My problem is that even when I’m suffering I am trying to please you.

Accept me and my problems because even though they are hidden,

They are not going anywhere.

So maybe my problem is you?