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It comes out of nowhere.

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You’re terrified to tell people about these thoughts because you don’t want them to think you would actually do any of them. 
It’s embarrassing and scary to admit that you have these thoughts that pop up in your head when you don’t believe in them. You aren’t crazy or psycho or a serial killer. It’s an illness. Get the help you need. 

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Don’t show fear or uncertainty. You have to polish your acting skills if being calm in a crisis is not your forte. Keep a calm demeanor and a gentle expression on your face.

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We are not defined by the fear. We are not merely a byproduct of our anxiety. This isn’t your claim to fame. It’s not your identity. It’s not the thing that sets you apart.

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It’s the feeling that someone is always mad at you. Even if you can’t come up with a single reason why, you are sure you MUST have done something wrong.

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If you live with anxiety, you may feel like there is nothing out there that can help you and you may want to give up, but don’t.

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Life is too short not to be grateful today.

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You’re the person that hears me when I’m not even talking, and can feel my heart speed up without even being near me.

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I also have an equally long list of anxieties for the past, present, and future. Some of these anxieties are short term, meaning they are passing through never to return again. Many, however, are reoccurring, playing on loop in my mind when I least expect them.

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Last Monday an eighth-grade student was asked, almost out of the blue, about whether she had a bomb in her backpack.