When Anxiety Moves In

My eyes burn from the tears I’ve cried -

so many, for so long, they sting like salt in an open wound.

My heart pounds, not rhythmically, not beautifully,

but like it’s trying to punch its way out of my chest.

A frantic reminder that something isn’t right.

I freeze.

Even wrapped in a blanket, even with the thermostat turned up -

my skin is covered in goosebumps.

My body trembles, as though it knows something I don’t.

This is what anxiety does to me.

This is what it’s been doing for days now.

It doesn’t knock.

It doesn’t ask permission.

It simply... moves in.

Unpacking its heaviness in the middle of my life.

I feel so alone.

And yet - I isolate myself even more,

as if I’m trying to match the silence in my soul

with the silence in the room.

I want to crawl into bed and stay there until it passes.

If it passes.

Will it?

Because it’s held on longer than usual this time.

It’s become my shadow, my sidekick,

my unwanted companion.

It haunts my every move.

And I just want peace.

I want to feel safe. Loved.

To feel like I am enough.

There are too many burdens.

So much clutter crowding my mind that I can’t

even sift through the chaos.

I just want to shut it all off -

if only for a little while.

But deep down, I know this will pass.

It always does.

And this time will be no different.

I just have to pull through.

Wipe my tears.

Wash my face.

Get up, and pull through.

And eventually - I will.