tunnel vision.

Crawling through a pitch-dark tunnel,

Alone.

Paralyzed, unable to function.

 

Ground trembling uncontrollably,

Everything slipping out underneath you.

Numbed out emotionally.

 

Air growing thin,

Head becoming feather-like.

Breath patterns waning like a teeter-totter; lungs filled with pins.

 

Cold sweat grasps slipping away

From conceptualized reality.

Can’t keep these thoughts at bay.

 

Ashamed, embarrassed, wanting to run back under the rock of stable security,

“Why can’t I control this?”

Public displays of anxiety are such an obscure insecurity.

 

“It’s all in your head”

The scars beg to disagree.

Truly this information is unjustifiably misled.

 

Sometimes, words can’t sufficiently describe what it’s like to have deep rooted anxiety.

Being such a complex box of emotions,

It deserves to be discussed properly.