My anxiety sits next to me & it is not small & I am not capable of bottling it up & putting it on shelf, it would shatter the jar & collapse the shelf & I have to live with the fact that it’s not something you can just put away & that’s it always present & it’s always there & that I have to ignore it & contradict it & have to deal with it actively trying to ruin every shred of fucking happiness I have felt & I think I felt & should I have felt it? & my anxiety isn’t some entity I can kick out my house & block the number of & I can put in little ear plugs shaped like pills & those little ear plugs will just dull out that one specific droning some of the time & then I’ll notice that the other thing next to me is telling me to kill myself & the earplugs don’t work on that (they amplify it & that’s so weird) & it makes some pretty compelling arguments & that’s really scary & so I take out my ear buds out so I can drown that out with my anxiety counteracting those arguments & sometimes they synch up & that’s even better & I’m just letting them chip away at me & I’m chipping away at me until there’s nothing left & what isn’t left? & in addition & also & including &
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