It starts with all the little hairs on my body standing up like an electric shock ran through it. Then my hands shake ever so slightly, followed by my legs. It reaches the pit of my stomach and pulses through the rest of my body. I lose control of my breathing and my thoughts break free from their cages. I always thought this was normal, it took me 11 years to realize that not everyone has this happen to them when they are asked to do simple task. My first panic attack was in second grade over my inability to remember which day was dress up day. I realized this on my way to school in my costume as screamed at my dad to turn back because I was sure I made a mistake. Since then I experience that at least every hour. It’s a curse I have to hide deep inside me because I was raised to be strong.

Anxiety is like chains, holding down from anything I desire. I’m too anxious to hang out with most people. It will never be easy to just go to the store or call someone on the phone. I’ve lost so many relationships to these chains. I reach and reach for this light that people call God but the unbreakable chains yank me down leaving bruises. Legs give you the freedom to go anywhere you want, to do anything you want, but what do you do when your legs can barely stand?

I love to sing, as silly as it sounds, it’s what numbs the pain that comes with the chains. No matter the amount of love I have for this art, the anxiety that follows is far stronger. As soon as I get on stage in front of my whole school I shatter into a million pieces. I am thrown to the ground everytime I try to stand.

I was getting better, the chains were chipping. I could feel me getting brighter and louder. Nothing could tear me down anymore. I embraced the scariness of my chains, I used it to fight the voice in my head that I called a “the little devil” when I was younger. Then I woke up one day and started to scream, I cried for hours just letting the voice demolish me into smithereens. Every care free thought drifted into a dark, black hole.  

I am no longer getting better.

I picture it as single file line in kindergarten; the leader is my insecurities, anxiety of all kinds, fear, trust issues, loneliness, and perfection follows close behind. While depression and anger is the cobuse, the one that turns off the lights when everyone is out and having fun. Insecurities hold the door smiling as it helps my weakness grow stronger. Overlooking all of these things is society as a teacher. Shaping them to grow up and take over my mind until it’s mush. My love for somethings are like summer break but summer only last a couple months.

No matter how many metaphors I use my anxiety can’t be explained. I am scared of loud noises but silents stresses me out, things must be perfect but I don’t try enough to get them there. I am afraid to talk to people but can’t keep my mouth silent for one damn second.

It’s like that demon is fighting with another and they will never decide what I want.

I will live like this for the rest of my life, praying to God that he heals me. I’ll keep using unholy ways to give my mind a break. This is a vicious cycle that will never end. Might as well decorate these invisible chains since they're going to be here awhile.