Transcript:
So I get this text message that says...
“Hey!” … just … “Hey”??
At first…
Followed by that godforsaken ellipses,
Taunting me while they’re still typing
and I’m thinking of everything that could possibly follow...
Hey!
You’re fired? The house is on fire??
I’m leaving your father? You’re gonna be a mother??
Anxiety makes you see things that aren’t there
Even at the party,
Anxiety makes it seem like...
I’m not always there…
Anxiety is that person at the party, that no one invited, who keeps asking--
"Is the music too loud?" "Are we breaking the fire code?"
"Will your neighbors call the cops??"
THEN CALLS THE COPS TO ASK IF IT’S OKAY THAT WE’RE HAVING THIS PARTY
Anxiety is looking for your keys,
WHILE YOU’RE HOLDING YOUR FUCKING KEYS
Anxiety is getting a voicemail like:
*BEEP* Sooo….
I need to talk to you…
Call me back!
OF COURSE YOU NEED TO TALK TO ME --
BUT THANKS FOR NOT TELLING ME WHY
ALSO -- who the fuck still leaves voicemails??
ANXIETY, THAT’S WHO!
Anxiety calls me in the middle of the night, like
"Hey!!
Remember that one time you called your 4th grade math teacher Mr. Mitchell, Mom?
Or that time you ordered pizza and accidentally said 'I love you' before hanging up the phone?
AND DIDN’T REALIZE IT’D BE THE SAME PERSON DELIVERING YOUR PIZZA"
NOPE!
Totally forgot that happened…
UNTIL NOW
Anxiety is thoughtfulness’ hella extra evil twin
ANXIETY, IS SO EXTRA
Anxiety is having your friends give you advice about how to “cure” your anxiety
Which only makes you hyper-aware that you are a burden for having anxiety
Like, ok yes,
let me try your yoga studio because I don’t want to offend you,
and then silently implode
because I’m forced to sit still with all of my deepest, darkest thoughts!
Anxiety is a funny thing…
Until it’s not
Until you’re sitting at home alone
and your friends are texting, asking
why you’re not there
Anxiety
is being trapped on a speeding train, heading for a cliff, and not being able to escape
because you're the conductor
It’s trying to be the conductor
to a choir with left and right hands that belong to different bodies
It’s having a chorus of voices in your head,
where everyone is singing but no one knows the words/lyrics
but no one knows the lyrics/words
Where you never feel in sync with yourself
in sync with yourself
Anxiety is constantly apologizing for things that are not your fault
‘til you start apologizing for your own existence
It’s having to compare anxiety to everything else
‘cause you know some people will still see it as a punchline
Anxiety makes me tip-toe around the truth to this poem
the truth is, most days,
Anxiety is something I can manage.
Until I see bed more than I see my friends.
Until it leads me to depression and I begin to question living.
If I down enough drinks
I can drown out the doubts,
But I can’t drown out your questions that keep me from being honest
“What’ve you got to be anxious about??”
“Why can’t you just relax?”
“You’re doing this to yourself,” “It’s all in your head”
WE KNOW
But talking about it helps.
Especially when no one talks about it.
Especially when where you come from
You're not supposed to talk about it.