It’s my own personal hell, tailored and fitted for me, I wish I could be free. Anxiety, it’s a hell inside of me.
Mother asks why I’m upset, I say nothing because it’s hard to talk about the things that bother me. I swallow a lump in my throat as I walk the hallways of another new school, it feels like I’m drowning in a pool. It’s getting harder to breathe and stand when it feels like all eyes are on you, I’m cowered in the corner not knowing what to do. My vision gets blurry and my mind feels like static, why must I be astatic?
Nobody wants to talk about mental illnesses because it shows weakness, no matter if you’re down on your knees praying to god to save you. The world is spinning as my body shakes, why must I question loving myself and only express hate?
Anxiety does wonders to you, it beats you black and blue. It twists you and morphs you into a worrisome version of you.
Anxiety makes you question things, it makes you think terrible things. It cuts you deep and tears at you, your whole life becoming unglued. Anxiety, it makes living un-livable.
It’s my own personal hell, tailored and fitted for me I wish I could be free. Anxiety, it’s a hell inside of me.
Taking deep breaths trying to calm the nerves, every step I take just makes it hurt more. Turning to dope to cope to try to believe there’s hope so I don’t turn to the rope, turning to *** to try to forget that I’m a mental mess. Why must I feel like this?
Prescription meds so I can stop the voices in my head, turning to counseling in the past it just feels like I’m wearing a mask, a mask to cover the fact that I live with anxiety.
It’s my own personal hell, tailored and fitted for me I wish I could be free. Anxiety, it’s a hell inside of me.
HELLo, it’s me.