“Anxious.” Fiction. Based on a True Witness to Anxiety.

“When you are broken, you have to go out and do something, and that was the healing process.”

–Mel Novak


Fiction. Based on a True Witness to Anxiety

by K.E.A

This journal entry is inspired by true events. Some of the characters, names, businesses, incidents, and certain locations and events have been fictionalized for dramatic purposes. Any similarity to the name, character or history of any person is entirely coincidental and unintentional.

Trigger Warning: our program often motivates people to discuss their trauma. If you find yourself feeling overwhelmed, please, take a step back to address emotional flashbacks and trauma before continuing to push yourself. If you are experiencing a medical emergency, call 911 or the National Suicide Hotline at (1-800) 273-8255.

You know its name. You know the other names it goes by. It goes by many, but it doesn’t change what it is. Over the years, it’s nature has been revealed its effects spreading until it’s a common household name. Everyone knows it now. Almost everyone has been touched by it.

You know many who have experienced it, dealt with it, are drowning in it. You’ve seen what it does to people, how it seeps in and takes root like a poisonous vine. Each coil is difficult to untangle, and it seems to keep growing and growing until it chokes the very life from its host. You saw it grab hold of that girl, saw how it locked her limbs and shortened her breaths, watched it make her so stiff that you thought she was frozen. Its presence bounced along the spikes of heartbeats on the EKG monitor, exposing the havoc is wrecked underneath the surface.

It can be undone by therapy, tamed with medication, removed with time and patience. It destroys people slowly, making them wither and break. It changes them and how they live.

You’ve watched it creep into your own life. Slowly at first, building up over the years until it spilled out. You couldn’t stop it and could only struggle to stay afloat while the waves crashed against you. There were times you thought you would drown—it felt like you did. It took a long time to untangle yourself from its grasp.

You’re still not free.

Each day you find a new piece of its name, discover new ways it’s entangled you. The roots run deep, removing them is painful. Fighting something that constantly shifts and resurfaces wears on you. The thought of being unable to escape makes you feel like you’ll be stuck on the spiraling cycle forever.

You name it and expose it, hoping to strip it of some of its power. Keep digging and keep uprooting, keep clipping it and stop it from spreading. You may never remove it completely, but at least you know its name.

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