I wish my anxiety is pretty

I wish my anxiety is pretty as all the girls in social media,
claim to have anxiety but manage to take full makeup selfies.
Don’t get me wrong, I am not bitter or accusing anyone to faking or attention seeking,
what I wish is my Anxiety is pretty as them, But she’s not.

My anxiety is pain inside my stomach,
Something stuck on my throats. Hurting my head
And that burning feeling on my chest
My anxiety comes without warning
It’s a mess during my working hours
Or sometimes visit me in the middle of the night.

I wish my Anxiety is pretty as them, But she’s not.
It’s a relapse to all my mistakes and my failures
It reminds me why people I loved doesn’t love me
It’s constant reminders that I hate my self
But I don’t want to hate my self.

It’s the time when it is so hard to get up in the morning
Or keeping me awake at night
It’s all the shaking hands and sometimes the whole body
It’s trying to force crying, so it goes down with the tears

I wish my Anxiety is pretty as them, But she’s not.
It’s refuse to put on makeup.
Or going to groceries with pajamas
It’s sleeping on the couch instead of my bed
And sometimes meditate won’t help

She’s the boogeyman
The monster inside the closet
It's anger
It’s force smiles
She’s said Sorry all the time

I wish my Anxiety is pretty as them, But she’s not.
Sometimes she pushes people I love away.
Sometimes she’s clingy
It’s ignoring texts for hours
And when people don’t reply within a minute,
she tells me they hate me.

When people said trust your guts feeling
she wraps my guts inside her arms
And always remind me there are dangers all the time

She wants me to have trust issues
She wants me to believe people are no kind
She is asking for constant reassurance
Because she told me everyone has a hidden agenda

No one loves me as they said they do
Because eventually, they will leave too.

I wish my Anxiety is pretty as them, But she’s not.
She makes people misunderstood me
Because they keep telling me not to worry
But she’s in my blood, and sometimes I wish just to cut the supply and drain her away.
She is something I can’t just turn off.
She’s the pain I can’t explain.

I know I can’t fight her.
All I can do it make peace with her.


And I hope someday I really find
someone who will make peace
With me and her too.

Because I am so much more than my anxiety.
There is a lot of love I can offer too.