“What's wrong with you?” they say,
“Can't you calm down for just a moment,
Take a deep breath--
Slow down,
Get centered and
Relax.
Stop being so **** negative,
What's the worry,
What's the hurry?
You can't solve every problem,
Let it go--
Hey not so fast.
Maybe, yes just maybe
If you stopped being so **** frightened
Well then maybe for a moment
All those fears would dissipate,
If you just stopped your overthinking
Your hypotheticals,
Possibilities,
If you let life flow all around you
You'd have that peace you say you crave.”

But they are wrong.  

Anxiety isn't nervousness.
Anxiety isn't cowardice.
Anxiety is a call to those
Whose eyes are open to the fight.

It is a certain sensitivity
An alertness;
A war machine never idle
There’s a buzzing below the surface,
There is no calm before this storm.
It is the constant sentinel
Vigilant in clash with
Paralysis,
There is no honor,
No heroism in this struggle
Whose burden countermands reward.

It is not the soldier’s nature to relax.

It is an instinct,
It is concern for you, for me, for others,
It is a special steadfast mutiny
When
Psyche fights the soul.

You say it is a weakness.
You subject me to societal court martial,
Though you cavalierly create conflicts
You say I am afraid.
But those consummate in combat,
Introspective and insightful,
True veterans of life’s battles
Know,
It's fear defines the brave.

My mother was a dreamer
My father was a sinner
And now I am  a daughter
With nowhere to call home

I laid out all the pictures
Constructing my memory
I was a happy little girl
Forgetting all my eyes had seen

I hid it deep inside
Every dark thing
Until one day once you'd died
I remembered everything
_

And now it consumes my thought
I try so hard to **** it
Abused and broken on the floor
There's a knife - a leg split

I'm far too vain to cut my arms
So I cut my legs
Why do I do this - it hurts
"Bittersweet", I said

Walking in the dark among the streets I knew
I remember you, the sky was black
And I was pale with fright of you

You smothered me, too much for me to bear
I couldn't scream I couldn't breathe
And you really didn't care

Punching me in my stomach
I felt a knot in my throat
I tried to form a fist, I couldn't
Felt my spirit start to float

Sleep paralysis is how my memories came back
It started with nightmares of me walking
And ending with me dying

Check out this dopeness

https://aspirationwriting.wordpress.com/2017/02/09/thehatefulclock/

A year and a half has passed since I crashed my motorcycle.
The broken bones and road rash had since been cast away.
The gassed up tank and fast paced life were smashed together.
A singular bash that cached my memory.
Lights flashed and all of the sudden whiplash has new meaning.
This thrash of two autos blinked my eyelash three days later.
Paralytic forecast.
I lay flabbergast.

A year has passed since I crashed my motorcycle.
The road rash had since been cast away.
The fast paced life was smashed together.
A singular bash that cached my memory.
Lights flash and whiplash has new meaning.
This thrash blinked my eyelash three days later.
Dreary forecast laid flabbergasted.

Leave me be,

Let me sleep,

For I have a very short fuse.

Write it all down. The way you feel when you wake up on a rainy Saturday morning, the howling thunder of a summer storm, how your heart races like hurricane winds at the simple thought of tomorrow. Write about your best friend's laugh at three in the morning and how blissful it is to have found a hand that squeezes yours back. Write when you feel as if your soul is perched at the very top of a mountain, and when it sinks to the deepest part of your mind's treacherous oceans. Write when your heart is dancing like a ballerina spinning in a white tutu. Write when it is still. Quiet. Lost. Write when you've fallen in love, when you've lost at a cruel game, when you fall asleep wanting to erase every memory you've ever experienced, like the songs you cried to when you were thirteen and swore you were falling apart. Write it all down, the bright colors that melt into fond afternoons, the bittersweet tastes, the textures that scar, the aches and pains. Write when words can no longer express what exists inside of you. Do it anyway. That is what love is.

My body freezes.
My airways weezes.
I am pushed away from a deep sleep.
On so deep that my insides weep.
Upon waking up its hard to move.
Nothing I can really do.
So I lay here and stare.
Unable to move even if I dared.
Stuck here for minutes at a time.
Staring up at the roof hiding the sky.
Unable to let tears leave my eyes.
Here I stay unable to cry.
In a deep deep comma like state.
Here I lay here like a fish on a plate.

When you feel like you're screaming but your throat has stalled like a decrepit engine
Even as the fear rises akin to bile in your lungs and your senses are drowning in confusion
You keep screaming because your heart wants to still its own pulse
You know that feeling where you wake up heart racing breath huffing cold sweat on your brow
They say its because your heart rate dropped so low your brain defibrillated your heart to keep you alive
Its worse when you've just been dreaming
It takes your dreams whatever kin they be and Ends them
Ends you.
You wake up
    You wake up
        You were falling
            You were about to die.
And then you look at the calendar and go 'I have to do things today.'
And you wish your heart was still falling.
Singing a song you never heard before but which you loved because it was so Alien to the idea of you
You think, don't give up, don't give up, and you make it a mantra.
Your heart beats to that rhythm like your brain sending you memos of its continued survival.

You are still screaming on the inside. You put some music on to drown yourself out. And you are at 'peace'.