Anxiety has been a never ending struggle for me

When I was 7 years old and my parents went out 

I would wait up

5 minutes past when they were supposed to be home

It’s fine, there’s just traffic

20 minutes past when they were supposed to be home

The anxiety starts to build

Are they ok?

Are they just running late?

25 minutes past when they were supposed to be home

I feel that familiar feeling on my back

Like someone pointing a gun at me

Counting down the seconds until it blows

That 5 minutes was all it took

5 

It’s fine it’s fine they’re just late

4

It’s fine it’s fine there’s probably traffic

3 

What if the traffic is from a car crash

2 

What if they were in it

1 

What if they never come home

0

And that’s when the gun goes off

The shooting pain through my chest as i enter full panic

I can feel the tears streaming down my cheeks

If i start crying i can’t breath

If i can’t breath i start shaking

If i start shaking i can’t move if i can’t move i get claustrophobic 

If i get claustrophobic i-

Then the door opens

It’s as if time is reversed

Relief floods my body as i see my dad walk through that door

He was smiling and laughing 

I didn’t know such a sound could calm me so quickly

It was like he somehow saved me from the bullet that was already put through me

Just by laughing

By seeing the smile on his face

I knew i was no longer bleeding

When I turned 11

That’s when things started to change

When I stopped hearing the laughter 

When I started being blind to his smile

I knew there was never gonna be an after

Because that gun never left my back 

To this day I feel it digging into my skin further

And further

Until it reaches the center

And that’s when I know it’s over

Once you have that gun on your back 

Every day

You start getting used to the pain

You start thinking it’ll be ok

You start thinking that it’s going away

When in reality it’s just getting lighter and lighter

So that the next blow hits even harder

This gun never leaves my back

Every second of every day of every week

I’m Constantly in fear of having a panic attack

It’s not an irregular thing

As if anxiety is holding me hostage 

In the basement of my mind

Chained to the feeling if constant fear

As if there’s a line of all my lives 

All being held against their will

Anxiety shooting off one by one

Each day the numbers getting smaller and smaller 

Each day the gun is digging deeper and deeper

Until there’s no more of me to shoot 

And that’s when it’ll all go black

And it’ll finally be over

When my anxiety fires