Dear Anxiety, you are the origin
Of a lot of my thoughts, but also
Of my despair. So, does that make you
At the center of my intellect? No.
I must repeat that to myself.
Does my fury define me? No.
This is a reminder to me.
My errors do not define who I am, and
Criticism isn't the end of me. This is
My key to sanity.
Surely, the person who I imagine
Myself to be isn't the same
As the one people really perceive.
But should this be the cause of
Long-awaited relief or
Added, dreaded angst?
The thousands of conversations created
In my brain, are they useful
Preparation or valueless clutter?
Do people ever feel as intimidated by
Me as I do by them? Do they wish
I would approach them just as I wish
They would? Am I really
Valuable enough? Yes, I am sure
That I am. Am I confident enough?
I like to think so. But I have no proof.
Please, life, when I gather the courage
To take a leap of faith, don't make it a jump
From the top of a cliff. Rather,
Make it like a bungee jump
That leads me to freedom
From Anxiety's prison.
© 2017 H Bakerley