Anxiety by Anna Parsons Hello, darling. It’s nice to see you again. Did you miss me? Did you miss the way I steal your breath? The way I make your heart pound? Your knees weak, and your palms sweaty? Yes, you feel me. In your veins. I’m electricity. I’m the bugs writhing under your skin and the strain in your muscles. I’m pyretic. I make you burn. I make your back tingle most unpleasantly. You can’t sit still anymore, or you’ll scream. Isn’t it awfully crowded in here? So many voices, I can hardly hear myself speak. Can you hear me?
I’ll just be louder, the only thing you hear. Oh, out the door we go. It’s much cooler outside. The sun slumbers, and darkness reigns. The shadows reach for you in the gentle breeze. Maybe they’re monsters. Oops. Not helping, am I? Good. Let the monsters come. Let them embrace you and squeeze the air from your lungs until there’s nothing left. You’re paralyzed. Sorry. That was me, too. Deep breaths? Hah, that’s cute. I’ll count with you. In. One, two, three. Hold. Hold. Ho— Hey, now. Who said it was time to exhale? You’re breathing too quickly, still. Inandoutandinandoutandinandountandin—You’re dizzy. I see the haze in your teary eyes. Did I mention that wretched tingle under your skin? Scratch it, I dare you. It’s fruitless. Can you hear me humming? Can you feel me in your bones? Curl up as tightly as you want, dear, but you can’t hide from me. No. In your head, I am king. I decide if you go outside today. I decide if you send that text, or answer that call. Your voice doesn’t work unless I want it to. Just try to speak. Try it. See? Nothing. You don’t need to talk to anyone else. I’m always here, and I keep you plenty company myself. Here come the tears. They burn, don’t they? Your cheeks are pink already, and your eyes are red as the devil. I love that color on you. Cry me a river. I can go all night. I’ll still be here when your eyes are closed, swirling that mind of yours. Try to sleep and I’ll drag you into a riptide, desperate and
17
Anxiety
