Bring human is stressful, being a successful human is even more so. Artists or not we all strive to do something great whether it be creating great masterpieces, owning your own business, or just simple things like getting through the day. Recently getting through the day has been hard. Anxiety and panic can be crippling. I always believed that anxiety was an uncontrollable force that couldn’t be stoped. When it came it would conquer you, swallow you whole, and spit you out with only fear left inside you. I was proved wrong though. It’s all a mind game. Your mind is a horribly complex thing that is hardly understood. Trying to understand it and control it isn’t easy but sometimes you have to find a way. I found that way. I realized that it was me hurting myself, my mind swallowing my thoughts whole, and that I had power to stop it. I believed that the anxiety had been slain then, that I was free from its crushing grip…but I was wrong. It’s one thing to feel anxious, to know the symptoms of panic and stop it then and there but when there’s no warning, when there’s only that split second, that moment of being conscious and aware before the lights go out and you’re out of your own control; that is when you realize that your mind won’t always let you free.

Im sure everyone has experienced anxiety but I’m not sure if this is just that anymore. I’ve come to believe that it’s something more. I think it’s panic disorder but at this point who knows and who cares? I just want it to stop. I want to have that control back. I’m still fighting this fear, fighting the panic that devours my mind and sends my heart racing. My mother says I’m a hypochondriac. Maybe I am. It would make sense. I’m seventeen but have joint pains and all this panic. Maybe I’m a liar. Can you lie to yourself so much that you cause yourself physical pain? That’s what she thinks I do. I don’t know and frankly I don’t care. I just want a damn answer. I don’t want this pain, I never did. I don’t want to be weak, I don’t want pity, I don’t want to be looked down on, I am sick and tiered of people asking me if I’m ok because I breath a little heavier than everyone else, I am tiered of people treating me like I’m glass and like I’m about to break. I don’t want to be broken, I want to function like a normal human being. I am so complete over being the poor broken soul of the group, I am stronger than anyone I know, I push harder than the rest but all they see are the broken pieces of me and I am ready for that to end. Don’t ask me if I’m ok, don’t ask me if im in pain because whether I am or not I will tell you I’m ok because I don’t need you looking down on me. I am not weak, I don’t want to be the liar my mother thinks I am. I will show you all what strength is and I don’t want to hear you ask; “are you ok?” Anymore because no I am not ok but I won’t let you know that. I don’t know why I’m in pain. Maybe it’s panic disorder, maybe I’m a hypochondriac, but either way I won’t let you know. It’s time to show what power is.


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