anxiety
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That moment. You know the one I’m talking about. You’ve had them. The moment I said it you instantly thought of one of them. The moments that made you. The moments that broke you. But that moment. You know the one. That one. When you close your eyes and think of it you can remember
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Sometimes I stumble. It’s a major side effect of being the very flawed human I happen to be. They don’t give you a handout at birth. Not one specifically designed to you, anyways. The one that says you’re going to go through some shit. You’re going to walk so far into a swamp you’re going
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I am so exhausted I want to lay down and sleep for an eternity. But I know one I get there my mind will toss and turn inside my skull keeping me awake. Oh. Hello there, depression. Anxiety is here too, how fantastic. I thought I had tucked you neatly back into the corners
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“There is not some exquisite beauty, without some strangeness on the proportion.” – Edgar Allan Poe I always found it odd, call it poetic justice if you will, when a literary quote you’ve carried with you for so long finally clicks into place in your life. I could spin you a tale of my life
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The words stick in my throat. Heavy. Feeling foreign even though I utter them so freely, so frequently, so loosely daily to many of those who pass by in my life. Fear lingers around every syllable. Fear that saying it makes it real. Fear that they’ll be the next weapon of choice in the never