Anxiety.

A drug addict recalls where all their problems began.

I was 13 when it started.

I remember that day better than I can remember most recent ones.

The first anxiety-induced thought that popped up was motivational. "I can do this."

At first, I didn't realize something was wrong. I thought it was something helpful. Something good.

I kept repeating those words in my head, under the belief that if I thought it enough, it'd become reality.

As the days went by, it snowballed into something out of my control.

Thoughts would appear out of nowhere, and I'd be forced to repeat them.

I'd start planning odd things out, too. I'd plan out how I'd walk, out of fear something bad would happen if I were to walk "improperly".

"Step here or else your parents will die in a car crash."

I call them thoughts, but in reality, they were more like voices.

Not the Schizo type of voices, but still, they were thoughts that weren't really coming from myself.

It was as if my Anxiety had become its own person, hellbent on torturing me.

It was around this time that my social life started to go to s**t, because I began to experience horrible anxiety when I was around people.

All of a sudden, I was just terrified of any sort of social interaction.

Luckily, due to the fact that I was homeschooled, I was never really forced to be around people.

The anxiety got so bad that I eventually locked myself away in my room. My safe haven. Away from my old friends. Away from my family. Away from the fear. Alone with the thoughts.