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Anxiety is a worm

I talked to the worm in my brain again today. 

I asked, “Can I have a break from you tonight? I’m getting drinks with a cute boy and I just want some peace. Can you do that for me? Please, just this once?” I begged. 

“Sure!” said the worm. Then he went to the control board of my brain and turned the dial up on “self-conscious.” 

For the whole night, I couldn’t stop fidgeting with my hair. 

When I close my eyes to sleep, the worm works overtime. He keeps a catalog of all of the embarrassing things I have done and yesterday, he displayed an endless loop of the time I made a joke that nobody laughed at; sometimes he goes back 5 years just to make me cringe. 

He crossed the wires in my neural pathways and burrowed holes in my self-confidence.

“If you want to be liked, don’t be yourself,” he says, then laughs when I miss a social cue. 

I’ve read self-help books and listened to podcasts. But there he is, making me second guess every text I send, email I draft, and paper I write. 

When I told my therapist about the worm that lives in my brain, I said, “My anxiety is taking over, I feel like I can’t do anything right.” 

The worm responded, “You will never be good enough! Everyone in your life hates you! You don’t deserve to be happy!” 

I am starting to think I will be stuck with him forever.

“If you hate me so much, why don’t you just leave?” I asked the worm

He just shrugged and said, “I’m just doing my job.”


Victims

Trees Trapped in January