Sometimes my anxiety gets the best of me and I move more than I speak.

It's not that I don't want to talk to you, it's that I forgot how to make noise.

I'm sorry I'm moving your desk so much, my legs won't stop shaking
and when my legs don't shake, my fingers don't stop moving.

I know I'm talking really fast, but I hope you understand me because I can't slow down.

It's not that I'm in a rush, it's that I have no control over my hands and legs and I'm always jittery.

And I placed bricks on my legs to try to control the shaking, but it didn't work.

And somehow they made their way to my chest, and now my chest feels compressed and I can't breathe.

I'm sorry, it's not that I don't want to talk. It's that I get this way when I'm around people.

I feel like if I were to place my trembling hands on the floor, I could start an earthquake.

And if I do, know that the cracks forming in the ground are cracks that have already lived inside of me for years.

There's nothing wrong with me, I swear.

But if I walk away from a crowded space, please don't follow me.
I need to breathe.

If I ask you not to touch me, please don't take it personally.

What most people consider a soothing back rub, I cringe to.

If I tell you to please stop talking, understand it's because my ears hurt from the persistent pulsating in my head and I only want a moment of silence.

If you ask me if I'm okay and I do not respond, it's because I physically cannot form the words.

But the answer, the answer is no. I am not okay.

I will be, though