I feel that writing is the best way to express your deepest and most sincere thoughts and emotions. It’s the absolute perfect way to shed some light onto your darkest shadows and corners of your mind. You feel at ease; like it’s only you, a pen, and a sheet of paper. It’s as though nobody’s listening, but you know that there is somewhere out there who cares.

That’s why I write. I can’t seem to push push the words I conceal inside out into the world. The things I wish to say are merely thoughts floating around in my head. I want to speak, but every time I attempt to do so, something stops me. It’ some sort of invisible force that deprives me of verbal communication. My throat closes, my knees wobble, my sweaty palms shake. Fear.

Of course, this only happens when I attempt to voice my my most honest and genuine opinions. At least, that’s what other people assume. And you know what they say about assuming things. Everyone just thinks that i can’t speak for myself, which is true, but it’s so much more than that. It’s a simple concept to understand really. Fear haunts every step I take. It’s a cloud hanging over my head everywhere I go. I can’t order my own food at a restaurant. I can’t walk down the street without feeling nervous and uneasy. I can’t even sit in the living room of my own house without feeling uncomfortable.

Everybody tells me that I’m being childish. They all tell me that I’m overreacting. They tell me to get over it. I never respond. My anxiety doesn't allow me to.