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I am anxiety.
Let me introduce myself. I am Anxiety.
I am the buzzing you cannot silence. The swarm that has made its home inside your chest. I have built my nest around your heart, and I have no intention of leaving.
You cannot always see me, but you can feel me.
Every bee represents a worry, a fear, a possibility. Some are small, almost insignificant. Others are large enough to consume your thoughts. Together, we create a constant vibration beneath your ribs.
I do not need a reason to exist.
You can be sitting comfortably in your favourite chair, watching television, laughing with your family, or playing with your dog. Everything around you can be perfectly fine.
But I am still here.
Buzzing.
I make your heart beat harder. I tighten your chest. I create a feeling of impending doom, even when there is no danger. I convince your body that something terrible is about to happen, but I refuse to tell you what it is.
And occasionally, one of my bees will sting.
A sudden wave of fear. A sharp sensation in your chest. An overwhelming feeling that something is terribly wrong.
Then the sting fades.
But the buzzing never stops.
You begin anticipating the next sting. You become afraid of the feeling itself. You listen for it, search for it, wait for it.
And without realizing it, you have become a prisoner of a threat that may never arrive.
I can steal your sleep. I can exhaust you without allowing you to rest. I can make you irritable, frustrated, angry, or desperately sad.
I can make you want to cry without knowing why.
And perhaps my cruelest trick is making you believe there must be something wrong with your life to explain why you feel this way.
There doesn’t have to be.
Sometimes I arrive without an invitation. Sometimes I stay for days, weeks, or months. Sometimes I disappear just long enough for you to believe I am gone.
Then, without warning, the buzzing begins again.
You can tell yourself there is nothing to worry about. You can reason with me, argue with me, beg me to stop.
But I do not respond to logic.
I am not always a warning that danger is coming. Sometimes I am simply an alarm that has forgotten how to turn itself off.
Look closely at this picture.
That heart is still beating.
Despite the swarm. Despite the stings. Despite the relentless noise.
It is still beating.
But what you cannot see is how exhausted it has become. How desperately it longs for silence. For just one moment without the buzzing. One moment without anticipating the next sting.
And even when the bees are quiet, you know they are still there.
Waiting.
Let me introduce myself.
I am Anxiety.
And I don’t need a reason to make you afraid.
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