Anxiety - tells me that it's all my fault. It fills my chest and stomach with a sick, sweet bile that I'm unable to *****. It tells me I'm sick, but never sick enough. That I deserve to be miserable because I am a liar and a sinner and a *****.

Anxiety - looks like being late for work everyday. Being constantly distracted, overworked, underperforming.  Anxiety is quiet in the room but loud in my ears. I'm frozen in sickness but I cannot stop moving.