Anxiety

 You see,

I was never "that girl".

That girl in high school that walked around with the confidence of a blossoming woman.

My eyes rarely grazed those around me.

Head down.

Clothes covering every inch of my body.

Protected. Covered. Secure.

You see,

I didn't have those "normal teenage girl fears".

The fear of being asked to prom wondering , "what would I wear?"

Or fearing what my grade on my chemistry exam would be.

You see,

What I feared was going home to an abusive uncle.

What I feared was the attention of any high school boy as I feared being touched.

Hugged. Kissed. Felt.

Without permission.

What I feared was making friends and them finding out my parents were dead.

What I feared was being seen as unusual, strange, or awkward.

My fear was my biggest fan.

A Stan if you will, front of the stage, backstage passage, there fear was.

Buying out the arena to be my one and only fan.

Cheering for my fall with a front row view.

Masking itself as my protector.

Fear, my old friend, led me to trauma after trauma.

At 16 I didn't know that my PTSD, and anxiety masked as a friend protecting me would continue to lead me into traumatic, abusive, and toxic situations just because it was all I knew.

You see,

Pain is familiar.

All we knew really.

How could I know that I'd continue these toxic cycles because by the age of 18 I'd never felt true protection, love, or happiness?

You see,

All I had was fear.

My BFF.

Maybe even my soulmate.

How could I know that I wouldn't even begin to break these cycles until the age of 22?

Two decades of pain, pain, pain.

You see,

How could I know that the moment I feel anything other than distress I'd wake back up and it be gone?

I'd be lost.

Fear won.

And what if I told you I never found myself again until the age of 27?

It wouldn't be until almost 3 decades that I start to break those cycles.

Leaving toxicity behind.

Leaving people behind that only serve me distress.

Crying over and over again until I finally realize that I am healing.

I'm human.

And
You see,

I can't be fixed because I was never broken.
I was simply mishandled by those around me.

See.

I was never broken.

Just because someone doesn't read the care instructions, doesn't mean I didn't work.

Just because I am diagnosed with Anxiety doesn't mean I am defective.

You see,

I am not broken.

***Dedicated to those struggling with PTSD and Anxiety. You are not alone. Don't let your mental health tell you that you can't lead a successful life.