After writing reading another blogger’s description of his anxiety and responding to him yesterday, it made me remember just why I started writing again, two and a half years ago. I had to do something to try to slay my anxiety beast that was living inside of me. At that time, I had tried many other things (like CBT, therapy, meds) and none of them helped for very long—if at all. Then I started to write, and everything settled down a little.

This poem is one I wrote right at the start. It’s maybe the very first poem I wrote, I’m not sure. Technically, it’s not my best. But it describes so well how I was feeling at the time.


Creeping across my chest,
Fingers tingling; numb
I can feel my heart racing,
It’s striking me dumb.

I know that I am rotten
I deserve all that I get
But—please—will you just let me breathe,
I feel so under threat.

I cannot think, my head’s all fuzz
It hurts to be alive,
My mouth feels dry, I cannot speak
I’m not sure I’ll survive.



Author: chocotales

I am a writer who is passionate about words. I find them magical and seductive. I write short stories, poetry, and non fiction. I'm currently working on my first novel.

6 thoughts on “Anxiety”

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