Friends

Sometimes my anxiety makes me feel like I’m ‘that’ friend. The one out of the group that the rest bring along and hang out with out of pity because they feel bad and don’t want the idiot loser to end up hanging from his ceiling, yet can barely stand how annoying and dumb I am. It gets to feel like I’m tagging along, like everything I say and everything I do that brings attention to myself makes them remember they’ve brought my dumbass along. I’m sorry that You all are stuck with me. I’m sorry that my anxiety isn’t brave enough to free you.