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Description
“ Anxiety. Fear. Uncontrollable worry. Uneasiness. An unseen voice that ‘predicts’ what will happen to you, that tells you that you are doomed, that you will suffer no mater what you do. You feel dread, restlessness, sickness and depression.

I can’t help but wait for signs of bad things to come, not knowing what lies before I in the future and how it will harm me. I anticipate the worse to happen. I feel stuck, unable to move a muscle of my body as my mind continues to process and load all the negative things that could happen to me or tell me the horrid outcome of something that I did, even from events others might think of as harmless actions or mistakes.

I feel stuck – unable to move my body as I am constantly on my hands and knees, being pushed down by my own negative thoughts and fear. I feel like I have to cower, like a dog being yelled at by a towering voice, telling me that I’m a bad dog. That voice is loud and trembles the ground I stand on. I can’t help but cower in fear with my tail between my legs.

With whatever amount of strength I have in my body, I always try to reach for the phone and call my parents for guidance, to try to block that vicious voice in my head with their calm and motherly tone. If I can’t reach my parents, I go to whatever friends are free or who even cares to help. My focus moves to them instead of that other voice.

They always tell me to KEEP BREATHING. THEY WILL ALWAYS BE THERE FOR ME. I AM NOT ALONE. YOU DID NOTHING WRONG. IT WILL PASS. I try to swallow it as best as I can, every time they feed me their helpful vocal ‘medication’.

I continue to tell it to go away; fighting back with my own voice of reason against his own. I tell him that I’m right and he’s wrong: this will happen instead of what he predicts. I am in control of my own body, not him. I tell him to stop telling me lies and to stop making me feel worthless and weak. I try to tame him, cracking the whip of common sense until anxiety is back in his own cage. There are times when I can’t do it alone. There, I rely on my friends and family to help me, to aid in the cracking of the whip and push him away so I may heal mind and body.

To hell with you, demon. To hell with you, anxiety. I will tame you and put a smile on my face once more.”

Inspired by people I know who have anxiety, both state and trail.

Artwork © 2010 Alex Cockburn

Description
“ Anxiety. Fear. Uncontrollable worry. Uneasiness. An unseen voice that ‘predicts’ what will happen to you, that tells you that you are doomed, that you will suffer no mater what you do. You feel dread, restlessness, sickness and depression.

I can’t help but wait for signs of bad things to come, not knowing what lies before I in the future and how it will harm me. I anticipate the worse to happen. I feel stuck, unable to move a muscle of my body as my mind continues to process and load all the negative things that could happen to me or tell me the horrid outcome of something that I did, even from events others might think of as harmless actions or mistakes.

I feel stuck – unable to move my body as I am constantly on my hands and knees, being pushed down by my own negative thoughts and fear. I feel like I have to cower, like a dog being yelled at by a towering voice, telling me that I’m a bad dog. That voice is loud and trembles the ground I stand on. I can’t help but cower in fear with my tail between my legs.

With whatever amount of strength I have in my body, I always try to reach for the phone and call my parents for guidance, to try to block that vicious voice in my head with their calm and motherly tone. If I can’t reach my parents, I go to whatever friends are free or who even cares to help. My focus moves to them instead of that other voice.

They always tell me to KEEP BREATHING. THEY WILL ALWAYS BE THERE FOR ME. I AM NOT ALONE. YOU DID NOTHING WRONG. IT WILL PASS. I try to swallow it as best as I can, every time they feed me their helpful vocal ‘medication’.

I continue to tell it to go away; fighting back with my own voice of reason against his own. I tell him that I’m right and he’s wrong: this will happen instead of what he predicts. I am in control of my own body, not him. I tell him to stop telling me lies and to stop making me feel worthless and weak. I try to tame him, cracking the whip of common sense until anxiety is back in his own cage. There are times when I can’t do it alone. There, I rely on my friends and family to help me, to aid in the cracking of the whip and push him away so I may heal mind and body.

To hell with you, demon. To hell with you, anxiety. I will tame you and put a smile on my face once more.”

Inspired by people I know who have anxiety, both state and trail.

Artwork © 2010 Alex Cockburn