I'd wake up in the morning lying in my bed, trembling at the thought of what would happen that day. The horrifying thought of whether I should get out of my bed or stay with my deadly thoughts chewing away at my Soul, my Heart, my Brain, my Voice, my Tears. But wait, I have no Tears, I have no Voice, I have no Brain, I have no Heart, no Soul.
I sat in that classroom shaking, losing my breath, realising what was happening.
"Lily, remember everything everyone's told you."
Repeating in my head, but wait, nothing's working. All I can think about is that class, what they're thinking, saying.
I pull myself together, sweaty, red and shaky.
You would think I was an actor, the way I pull myself together and put a smile on my face.
All heads turn towards me. I look fine, but I am so so not. I keep my head down, fidgeting with my pen, watching as my leg bobs up and down at 70 mph.
We don't talk about it because we feel like we're not allowed to, like we have to suck it up and move on.
We've all told a friend or a family member, and who told us we were being dramatic, and left us with our deepest secrets, feeling and emotions in their power.
But now there's help, and you go in to talk about your past and your feelings to an absolute stranger who will proceed to ask, but all we can say is "I'm good, no thank you", and walk out feeling the same as before with all our feelings still bottled inside.
This is Anxiety for me, now what's it like for you?