For years, my grandmother used to tell me that I would kill myself from thinking too much. That over-thinking would probably burn a hole right through my head until my hair caught fire. I can remember my uncle telling me over and over again to relax and try not to think about the future so much -- things would just happen as they were supposed to.

But I knew then, and I still know now, that I will never be able to just let things happen. I have anxiety. It's taken a great bit of strength to write this article, and I don't know if my family would understand what it's like inside my head even if they did read this. You see, everything I do has to be meticulously thought out and projected every day. I can't go to a restaurant unless I've seen the menu already and know what to expect. I will search for the google results on every app I download. I needlessly study the streets, shopping areas, and restaurants for every new place I go to, and I plan out my days almost down to the very minute. Like any normal person, I like spontaneity; however, unlike most, I physically lack the ability to make spur of the moment decisions without having a panic attack.

The worst thing about having anxiety is trying to keep it inside your head. Until now, even my closest friends will have no idea that this is how it feels to be me. Some of my friends might know that I don't drive because I find it intimidating, but none of them know that when I'm behind the wheel of a car, I feel so out of control amidst all of the other drivers on the road, that I would rather sit at home than have to drive somewhere. Sometimes, even sitting in the passenger seat of a car, if I see the cars beside me are especially close (although rationally, I know in my head that they are a reasonable distance away) I begin to gasp and hold my breath as though waiting for impact.

My friends aren't aware that I will pull my own hair when I find myself running behind on a project or homework -- and I'll continue to pull until large clumps of my hair are in my own hands. Most people don't know that I used to wear a heart monitor to school solely to monitor my overly-frequent panic attacks. My friends don't usually, if ever, see this side of me. When I'm surrounded by my sorority sisters and my boyfriend and coworkers, I smile and write lists of what I need to get done that day -- like that's what I get paid to do (it's not).

The weirdest thing about living with this anxiety inside me is that I usually cry when I'm alone. I don't know. It just happens. I can't really control it. The world around me seems small, and there's nothing that can soothe it. I try to take deep breaths and calm myself, but the only thing that makes it better is to keep writing to-do lists and working on my daily schedules.

But my anxiety is also just a part of who I am. Although the people around me may never understand that, I know that this is something I will live with forever, and it's up to me on how much I let it take control of my life. And I think I like having control over everything a little too much to let anything, even my anxiety, take that away from me. I will make the best of this life that I can, and in the meantime, I hope that everyone else with this nagging pain in their brains can do the same.