Dear Anxiety

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.