Anxiety is the part of me that never gives up. Sometimes it leaves me for a while, but it always comes back to give me a hug when I need it the most. Ignoring the fact that I need it from another human being.

When I want to run and hide. Anxiety runs with me. Not to hide, but to remind me how pointless it is.

When I want to be alone. Anxiety tells me I am not good enough. Not worthy of love. Not even from myself.

When I want quietness. Anxiety plays the drums and shout at the top of its lungs. Always to a tune I cannot stand.

When I want to sleep. Anxiety asks me—with a grin on its face—about the mistakes I have made in my life.

Anxiety is a part of me, and it will never give me up for someone else. Someone better.