Since I was thirteen years old, I have struggled with anxiety.

When I was younger, it was very bad. Every single thing that happened that was even slightly negative would send my mind reeling into a downward spiral of worst-case scenarios and "what if's." When I entered high school, it was still there, but I surrounded myself with people who made it manageable, which made making it to my high school graduation easier.

College spiked my anxiety more than I ever thought, but I was still surrounded by people who helped make me feel better. I spent three semesters managing my anxiety pretty well. But at the end of my third semester of college, my ex and I split up after five years. This sent my anxiety into a very fast downward spiral.

My coping mechanisms that made my anxiety manageable suddenly disappeared, and I fell back into a state of constant worry and dread I hadn't been in since I was fifteen years old. Every day, I was having to talk myself down from panic attacks. I was crying at least two or three times daily. I was constantly questioning whether or not the people in my life wanted me around, or if they were faking it.

My anxiety is constantly putting ideas in my head that I am not worthy of peoples love. My head is a constant stream of things like:

"You're just bugging him."

"She's just saying that to be nice."

"She doesn't actually wanna talk, notice how her text was shorter?"

"He didn't respond for a few hours because he hates you."

"You really shouldn't try to talk to them, they won't want you around anyways."

"He said he doesn't want to talk to anyone, but really it's just you because he hates you."

These thoughts are on an endless replay in my head, which leads me to always feel like a burden to the people I care about most, which leads me to either isolate myself entirely, or ask a list of questions of people to make sure the things my anxiety screams at me every single day aren't true.

I still genuinely struggle to believe that the people in my life want to be around me. Even my best friend, who has been my best friend for almost six years. Or my best guy friend, who has been my best friend for almost seven years.

But to the people who have dealt with my anxiety, and have had to reassure me countless times that they do, in fact, want me around:

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry my anxiety makes me high maintenance. I'm sorry my constant need for reassurance is draining. I'm sorry you have to constantly repeat yourself to make me feel better. I'm sorry that my anxiety disrupts your probably pretty average day. I'm sorry I ask you the same questions repeatedly, I do that because I expect you to change your mind. I'm sorry my anxiety makes me a hard person to love.

But at the same time that I am sorry for all of those things, I am grateful.

I am grateful that you reassure me when I need it. I am thankful that you repeat yourself to make me feel better. I am grateful that you don't get mad at me when my anxiety disrupts your average day. I am grateful that you answer the same questions all the time.

I am so grateful that even though my anxiety makes me difficult to love, you love me anyway. Because while my anxiety is telling me I am not worthy of your love and friendship, you are proving to me why I am.