Anxiety, My Inner Demon

What are you worried about? you ask me.
It's no big deal, there's no reason to feel anxious,
You're overreacting.
As you obviously have no idea what you're talking about,
Let me enlighten you about the living hell that is anxiety.
Anxiety is doubting everything you do, everything you say,
Being afraid you'll do it wrong and ruin everything.
Anxiety is lying awake at night, unable to sleep,
Because your own thoughts won't stop assaulting you,
Won't stop reminding you of all the stupid things you've done.
Anxiety is being afraid to do anything,
To risk anything,
Because something, anything, could go wrong.
Anxiety is remembering something wrong you did years ago, and dying a little inside because you're such a failure.
Anxiety is worrying that your own friends don't actually like you,
That they only spend time with you because they feel obligated to.
Anxiety is sitting in class, afraid to ask a question, or get out of your seat because everyone's eyes will be on you,
Judging every move you make.
Anxiety is being afraid to talk to someone because you don't want to burden them with your presence.
Anxiety is shaking, sobbing, hyperventilating because some stupid little thing triggered you and you can't stop the panic that's rising in your chest.
Anxiety is overthinking everything,
Thoughts spinning at a million miles a minute,
Creating doubts, questions, worst-case scenarios.
It's a knot in your stomach, a shaking hand, a spiral of despairing thoughts from which you can't escape.
It's chewing on your fingers, pulling on your hair, scratching up your arms.
Anxiety is your own mind screaming at you, attacking you from the inside, tearing you apart.
You know it's irrational, you know it's illogical, you know it's ridiculous,
But that doesn't matter because it has control of your thoughts and won't let go.
It only tells you lies, but you can't help but believe every single one.
It knows your weaknesses, your insecurities, your deepest fears.
It hits you where it hurts and brings you to your knees,
Too weak to move,
Too afraid to fight back.
Anxiety is caring too much, thinking too much, worrying too much.
It's not fun, it's not cute, it's not glamorous, and it's not easy.
It's an absolute f***ing nightmare from which there is no escape.
So don't tell me that it's no big deal,
That I'm overreacting.
My own thoughts are my own worst enemies,
Tearing me apart from the inside,
Mercilessly pulling me into despair, and I have no control over them.
So don't judge me;
You have absolutely no idea what's going on in my mind,
No idea of the hell that I'm living in.