You tell me to breathe,
but is it really that easy?
Breathing comes naturally you say.
Take one, two, three gulps sweetie.

Yet it cripples me
The crowd.
The people.
The unknown.

It is fear.
Fear that grabs me by my sleeves
and never lets me go.

But you wouldn't know that.
Because you don't ask how I feel.
You just assume that it's nothing.
You just tell me to deal.

And it's not that easy.
The butterflies come to life.
My heart races.
It's like that feeling you get when you look in your rear view mirror and a truck is speeding towards you and you can't get out of the way.
But there is no truck.

And this is anxiety.
So you tell me to breathe.
But it's not that easy.

Because I have a problem.
But you need to listen and discover.
Anxiety is not some made up excuse.
You need to help me or I may not recover.