Dear anxiety,
It’s time we have a talk. I’m onto you. I catch you coming more often than not. I can feel you building in my chest hours before and your tricks just aren’t going to cut it anymore. I’m stronger than you. You do not define me.
For a long time I let you control me, I let you make me hide away from my friends and family so they wouldn’t think I was just out for attention. I let you torment me when I was in the shower, with your squeezing of my lungs so I can’t breathe; and your making my heart pound out of my chest. This ends today. I’ve had enough.
I know your game and it’s not very fun to play. You may get your amusement, but your sick little tricks end here. I will not let you control me. I will not run and hide alone just to hide you. I will not give in to the thoughts you put into my head. I will not let you win.
You see, if I’m in control then you become obsolete. And eventually you will disappear to be simply a memory that I’ll probably never even bring up seeing as you won’t matter. You’ll be a part of my past that was so insignificant that I might even forget you were ever here.
Sincerely,
Your worst enemy.