An Open Letter To Anxiety
October 16, 2018
It seems that we talk a lot, but thankfully, I have not heard from you in a long time.
That is not to say we are not close; we met in seventh grade in English class when you decided to interrupt a speech I was giving to my class. After you intervened, I had to spend the rest of the class in the nurse’s office because no one knew who or what you were.
You have not really let up since.
We fought for years and I swear, in that time, I felt more alone than I had in my life. I had to hide you because if anyone found out, I would only seem like a freak. The reality of the situation could not have been more different. According to the National Institute of Mental Health, over 30 percent of teens are affected by you, but in the end, only 20 percent of those affected seek treatment.
Why? Why would we all willingly suffer in silence when so many of us are suffering? We walk around smiling and talking every day, with a pit in our stomach and the weight of the world on our shoulders, and only we can know. My question is, if we are all carrying the weight of the world, why do we not carry it together? You torment so many of us each day and you trick us into thinking that we have to suffer alone.
I lied earlier, we do still fight, a lot more often than I want to admit; but I refuse to let you keep tricking people into thinking they are the only ones dealing with you.
Consider this a warning,