My brain is constantly going. It's like Times Square: loud, congested, and different things happening in different corners simultaneously. High-functioning anxiety is different for everyone. On my bad days, it keeps me bedridden...I won't talk about those days. On my good days, it is time-consuming, and it is exhausting. It's scary to write about my anxiety (I'm getting anxious about an article about my anxiety...what the heck?) because society today wants you to prove that you're struggling. Even writing this, I'm wondering, "Will people relate?" "Will people believe I even have anxiety issues?" "Does this make sense?" "Am I doing the topic justice by writing about myself?" Despite these thoughts, I believe there is strength in numbers: my fellow anxious humans, I feel you. I know even the good days make you weary simply because your brain won't shut up. For me, those days go like this:

The first of three alarms goes off. It's 7:00am, two and a half hours before my first class. This gives me plenty of time to get ready, gather all of my necessary materials for the day, make/pack a lunch, and double check my materials...and double check them again. I leave for class 30 minutes before it begins in case something happens along the 10 minute walk: traffic, weather, falling, talking, construction, my clock being wrong for the first time ever. The usual.

I walk into my first class always hoping my same chair will be open. This isn't where I sat on the first day of class—I changed seats about three times in the first two weeks to ensure I had an easily accessible seat close enough to the front to be a good student, but also close enough to the back so everyone wasn't sitting behind me. It's open, thank goodness. I sit down and check my email twice before class begins. I make sure my screen brightness is turned down in case something embarrassing appears in my inbox like a bad grade, a job rejection, or anything that causes people to look at my screen longer than a millisecond. My professor walks in and takes attendence. I make sure to be looking directly at her so she doesn't miss me and count me absent. This has never happened and probably will never happen since there are only 13 of us in the class, but you never know. I check my email again.

My first class ends, and I book it to my next class as if the walk today will take longer than it does every single other day. The cycle of seat selection, attendence attention, and email checking repeats. Usually, in this class, it's time for me to use the restroom after drinking a whole Camelbak of water (dehydration...scary). I make sure my phone is on silent so it doesn't ring while I'm gone (embarrassing), I make sure my professor or another classmate is not speaking (rude), and I make sure to quietly get up and not bump into anyone/anything on my way out (avoiding attention at all costs). I slowly and quietly shut the door, and hurry to the restroom so my professor doesn't think I'm purposely missing class. I come back, and I try to avoid eyes innocently looking at me as I walk in, sweating from unwarranted nerves.

Between classes, I reserve a study room for the end of the day to do work. A study room equals no distractions, and it's insurance for my own quiet workspace. I need this in order to accomplish any work. Once my classes end, I walk toward the room and see other students in there, despite my reservation on the panel outside. Shaking for fear of confrontation, I politely knock and open the door, asking if I could please come in during my reserved time. They leave, and I apologize again for the inconvenience.

I leave my study time and begin my trek across campus to the apartment, making sure to have my phone out and ready since it's dark and bad things happen in the dark. Usually, I call my mom just so someone in this world knows where I am if something were to happen. When I walk in, I make sure the door shuts quietly as it is right beside the room my roommate and I share. I am sure to greet any roomies in the apartment in an effort to not be rude, and then retreat to my bedroom to finish up any work and prepare for bed. I make sure my side of the room is clean to avoid a stressful environment for my roommate, and I lay out my clothes for the next day. Ya know, in case two and a half hours isn't enough time the next morning.