The day starts at 5:30 a.m. to the harsh sound of my phone's alarm.

After only a couple hours of sleep, I hear seven alarms in a row that are all set for the same purpose: to make sure I really get out of bed.

Alarm number eight says, "Take your medicine at 6:25 a.m."

I take a sip of juice, throw back the handful of six pills, and follow it with another sip of juice to wash them down.

I leave the house at 6:30 a.m. for work.

My shotgun rider, Anxiety, gives me the day's low-down. According to him, there is a high possibility that I'm going to be very late for work but also that there's a policeman following closely behind me, ready to ticket me for going even one mile per hour over the speed limit. Wonderful.

A few hours into the work day.

Anxiety tells me that I may have done something to upset one of my co-workers. And this thing may have happened six months ago. I become instantly uncomfortable and wonder what I should do. Apologize to my coworker? But what if they aren't even mad about it? What if they don't even remember?

11:30 a.m. -- lunchtime.

But wait, I can't eat anything I packed this morning because Anxiety reminds me I should be dieting. I need to look 'better' in that new dress I bought. My anxiety makes me feel like I am not good enough.

At 2:00 p.m. I get a text from a friend while I'm on a break.

Hm, weird... Her text sounds a bit different than normal. Does she not want to be friends anymore? Is it because of how I 'changed' when I came to college? It's been three years, I thought she got over it... I guess she didn't -- and neither did Anxiety.

I head to class at 3:30 p.m.

On my drive, I think about what we'll be learning today, how the last lecture went, and start panicking about what's going to be on the next exam.

6:00 p.m.

Out of class. I need a nap, but Anxiety tells me I don't deserve one because I'm not good enough.

Running to my event at 9:30 p.m.

Out of breath, I immediately become self-conscious about how out of shape I am. I should be better than this, Anxiety knows it and I do too.

Finally home around 11:45 p.m.

I need to shower, take care of my house and dog, and do all of my homework. Anxiety tells me to freeze up -- that I can't do it. "You can't do this," it says, "you aren't good enough. Why do you even try? GIVE UP."

1:00 a.m.

Time to sleep... After another hour or two of stressing out about tomorrow. "Goodnight," Anxiety whispers, "sleep tight..."