Anxiety

Quick Note: This Story makes no sense whatsoever, but enjoy nonetheless.

Photo by Stormseeker on Unsplash

I’m not sure if I have anxiety because I’m only self-diagnosing. Can I get an amen? I mean, I started having little anxiety attacks in middle school, but they were very sparse, and I just tucked it away as if it was something everyone went through. I had two full-fledged panic attacks in high school. They were so intense that I thought I was going to die. The worst part is that it appears out of nowhere. I get claustrophobic sometimes when I’m in a crowd of people. However, in an empty hallway or large space, I sometimes feel as if the walls are closing in on me. One in which I should be able to breathe easily but am unable to. I suffocate, and the fear of even taking a single breath becomes unreachable, unfathomable. I often forget to do something as simple as breathing.

My personality is a confidence ruse. Don’t get me wrong I know I look good, like duh. But if I notice too many eyes on me while I’m walking or going about my business, I worry about what they think of me. Even though I shouldn’t, I begin to believe that I’m ugly or fat, like some behemoth before them and that this is why they can’t stop staring at me. On the subway this morning, an elderly man was staring at me. Now I’m going to bring up the fact that he was white in case he was racist because he was old. But I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as if he was thinking, “a n*gger in my midst?” I could be overreacting. I’m sure he was just wondering if my hair was real, to which I say, mind your fucking business.