I’m anxious not broken.
Some people walk on eggshells around me. I can see it when they move, their feet softly hitting the ground, hoping not to upset me or scare me in any way. I’m not a fragile bird with a broken wing that is going to ask you to help me. I don’t need your help. Stop walking around me as I’m going to shatter with any sudden movements.
I’m not broken. I’m not cracked. I am a flawed human being trying to make it like everyone else is.
I don’t want to be treated like a child who’s scared of the dark. I don’t want to be cooed at so I don’t cry in the middle of having an anxiety attack. I need you to let me freak the fuck out for two seconds. I promise you, I won’t be mad at you when I collect myself but I need you to back the fuck up. My anxiety isn’t something you can fix with your careful petting. My anxiety isn’t going to deem itself unfit and just leave. My anxiety does not affect you so stop acting like it does. Let me be an anxious mess.
Let me cry a bit.
My anxiety didn’t break me. It’s not going to. If anything, it put me back together after other things broke me.
My anxiety gave me a reason to be more aware of myself and less aware of you. I know it sounds harsh but it’s true. My anxiety taught me that sometimes I need to focus on myself FOR MYSELF.
You have the choice of walking away from me.
As do I. And if you do, that’s your loss.
And if I do, well it’s my loss too.
So let me ask, I’m okay with my anxiety, are you?