I used to be ashamed of who I was.
As if the twisting and turning in my stomach,
The racing and fleeting thoughts thundering through my mind,
Were all my fault.
That it was somehow something I was doing on purpose,
Something I could fix but wouldn't.
I felt like a broken tool,
Unable to fix anything at all.
The feeling of my stomach turning was constant and yet not quite accepted,
The sweating hands a normal occurrence.
I always thought it was normal,
The extreme thoughts of "what ifs" that will never occur,
The intense need for control over anything in sight.
It felt like if I couldn't take control,
If I couldn't make things how they had to be,
That I would lose everything.
When I realized that something about me was off,
It felt like I was falling off an endless mountain into an ocean.
At first, I was standing in the sand.
Every time I saw a wave coming,
I would brace for it and wait for it to be over.
The feeling of relief after the wave hit was so rewarding.
However, as time went on,
That relief started to never come.
It felt like a nightmare,
Knowing that my mind could never be completely at peace,
That I could never be completely normal.
Knowing that I'll always be somewhat anxious ripped me apart.
I've learned so much.
I'm okay with being anxious.
I'm still learning how to live with it,
But I'll figure it out eventually.
I know the horrible feeling of someone telling you,
"Just stop worrying."
Know that I understand,
And that we're all in this together.
I used to be so focused on finding a way back to shore,
A way to escape the waves of this ocean.
I'm slowly learning how to calm the sea.