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The Projector: A Poem About Anxiety

I can’t see.

90% of the time, my eyes do not see what is in front of me
Only what the master of my mind projects through me
The master, you ask, was never me
The master is a demon who plucks horrible images
And projects them through my eyes so I think it’s me
Why can’t I see?

The projector is on a loop for what feels like an eternity
Preventing me from interacting with what’s in front of me
Only concerning myself with what could be
The medicine makes it better than it used to be
Not completely

This goes against everything they have taught to me
My thoughts are not my own. Seriously?
This fact haunts me

I look out the window, but I do not see the trees
I see all the things that I could be
And should be
All of the things that could happen to those around me
It’s utterly frightening
And it’s all my fault because the way I moved my body
That day didn’t seem quite equal on both sides

All of this is projecting through my eyes
While I sit completely still and silent
If only I could find the off switch

The truth is this — I deal with these feelings daily, but I will not allow this to be who I am. I am a strong woman, a great mom, a great wife, a great friend. I was made to explore this earth and spread as much love as possible. I was made to soak it all up. We all have our own demons to wrestle.

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Unsplash photo via Jeremy Yap