Dear Anxiety,

I've always been told that it's inappropriate to show up at a gathering to which you were not invited, but I guess you don't have a problem with that. You waltzed into my life without even asking my permission and became an unbearable weight upon my shoulders.

You make the simplest things in the world some of the most difficult tasks.

Hanging out with friends? Oh, they probably all secretly dislike me anyways. Choosing what to eat for dinner? I want the chicken, but the OCD is saying that if I don't have the beef, then my family will die. Going in to take a test that I have prepared days for? Totally reasonable to have a panic attack in the bathroom beforehand.

Some of my what should be my fondest memories are tarnished by your ill will and persistent presence.

You take beautiful moments and wreck them with unappreciated moments from the past and questionable thoughts of the future. No matter how much you make me mull over the past and worry about the present, it will not change a thing. All it makes me do is feel overwhelmed. It is a waste of time and a waste of energy and, while I see that it is those things, I still cannot stop. You are too powerful.

In my biology classes, we have been learning about parasites.

They drain the energy from their host ceases to exist. You, anxiety, are my parasite. You drain me of life, energy, and happiness. You leave me a mere hollow shell of myself. And, just like a lot of parasites, I am the only one who knows you are there. From the outside looking in, no one else can tell that you're in me, torturing me with everything that you do.

While it sucks that you ruin my life, that's not even the worst part about having you around.

You really want to know the worst part? You make me hurt the people whom I love the most. You make me into someone who is weak, negative, and panicky. You make me say things that ordinarily I would never say. You make me bother them with the constant questions of reassurance.

I hate the feeling of suffocating.

Feeling like I have no escape from my brain is the worst turmoil you could bestow upon me. Having my heart speed up for no reason at all is dreadful. Not wanting to make a single decision because of OCD's repercussions being a living hell.

You've done a pretty good job at making me feel worthless, I'll give you that.

But, you know what? Through it all, I have never given up. I'm still here; I'm still fighting. I don't want you to go away, no. I want you to diminish into the tiniest little voice in my brain and to realize that you no longer have power over me and that you never will again. I want you to know how you've made me feel my entire life.

Best wishes,

Anxious gal