Hey there Delilah

That girl, in the picture, yeah, that’s me. Your average 26-year-old right? Wrong. That girl is filled with anxiety. Some days, that girl is scared to leave her house. Lately, it seems like every day. It feels like I’m trapped inside and I’ll never see the light. I’m scared of people. Of what you people think of me. Why? I don’t know. I wish I did, maybe then my anxiety wouldn’t have such a hold on me. I’m constantly worrying, constantly trying to do my best and it’s never good enough, it’s exhausting. I wish I were normal. Sometimes I fantasize about being normal, about being me in another life, where I actually have my shit together. Instead, I have anxiety every single day and having anxiety is the worst feeling ever. It feels like someone is sitting on your chest and you can’t breathe. You feel different. You can see the looks on people’s faces judging you, telling you to calm down and breathe. You feel as if there’s something wrong with you, and there is. Your eyes begin to swell with the tears that are all too familiar, followed by a paralyzing feeling of inadequacy.

That’s the reality. I’m going to have to live with it my whole life. The shaking, the overwhelming feeling of losing control— I just watched a movie and the lead character said she couldn’t do something because she’s not good enough. Tears started rushing down my face, because that’s how I feel most days.

Other days it's like I’m pretending everything’s okay to the outside world, but it's still there. It’s never going to leave. Its powerlessness, its unmanageability at its finest. It holds you back in every single way. Like you're chained to a rock at the bottom of the ocean struggling to come up for air, but you never make it, do you? You drown as anxiety fills your lungs.

Your mind races all day, just trying to get to the finish line, only to come up short, losing every time. Physically exhausted from it all. I use the word dead a lot. I feel useless. Tired. Dreading the next day where I have to wake up and do it all over again. I want to run, away from myself, but the problem is, my shadows right behind me. I can’t escape.

I can’t start nor finish anything. You tell me I can’t. You can’t focus because you’re too worried about the next thing. You get anxiety about thinking about having anxiety. You are scared. Living in fear of yourself, but you can’t run— you can see the light and your legs are moving, yet you never go anywhere. You envision a future for yourself and have hope that you can achieve it. You are full of great ideas but you never try. You’re not good enough. You can’t do it. And you believe it. You believe you can’t more than you can. People tell you, you can. They tell you that you’re a strong and independent woman. You smile and believe for a second that you are. For a fleeting moment, you truly believe. You believe! But when that second passes, it fades. You are powerless. You are a slave to your own thoughts.

You can listen to motivational speakers for hours and actually feel in your heart, today’s the day you're going to accomplish x, y, and z, but x, y, and z never come. Those accomplishments pass you by like a train that has no stops, no destination, and no direction. It’s all overwhelming, the information, the self-help books, the blogs. There’s just too much and I don’t know which way to go or what to read or where to start. In fact— I have no fucking idea.