Anxiety sometimes becomes our shadow and comes along with us everywhere. I’ve seen my anxiety lingering in the beauty products aisle in the grocery store, while I was in the condiment aisle trying to figure out the spices I was told to buy. I’ve had my anxiety hold on to me when I sat on the adventure rides alone. In times of pain as well as pleasure, my anxiety never let me go. I may or may not have tried to glorify the presence of my anxiety in the initial days of my writing, but now I have grown to understand the point of its presence and validity. It has become a part of me. I carry it everywhere: schools, malls, buses, libraries, metros, cafes, museums, you name it.

and in honor of my anxiety and it’s presence, here is a poem on reaching out, with anxiety.

(this may be read as a simple, love poem talking about having the courage to initiate conversations but if you read into the lines, this poem also focuses on reaching out to therapists.)

trigger warning: anxiety attack

Reaching Out (With Anxiety)

On the walls lined with paintings,
On the desks engraved with initials, and in a reckless smile hidden under the veil,
I saw through my fears,
through my dreams/fantasies — a skin glowing with secrets

and oh, I reached out,
but before — I glanced within,
after all the ungodly nights and days of keeping up with tremor,
tremor — in my eyes, in my hands
today was a happy day, so I reached out
as I said, she had a skin — glowing with secrets

what else, you ask? Oh, she was bright and in daylight she looked just fine and it was nine and I just knew it was ‘the time’
with earphones, all tangled in my pocket — and nose running red of embarrassment— I reached out
I was just, I was just, — oh I was just reaching out
when there was a clap, a thunder, a bang, a boom and no wonder
she caught me — and she was running and in no time I crawled, I crawled and I wriggled under the reception desk I was supposed to be sitting on — the bell chimed and
Oh no! There were new visitors and I had to rise up, and oh I rose up with eyes all gleaming and sweat forming on my calves, I had to make entries, let everyone in and oh I had to reach out

I looked for her and her and her — a skin glowing with secrets
and ‘um excuse me? Can I get in? How much do I have to pay?’
Oh, oh oh, she was here and in front of me and asking
I said ‘oh, hi! It’s two-fifty, that’s it and you can enjoy this art for two hours, thank you for choosing our museum and oh, bye, I had to reach out and I am spiraling and and and’I must not remember what happened next — was it a deal of great solitude sparked with a pinch of embarrassment or me cozying up with my dearest — she was rather a lady of ethics and morals and knew how to respect people and
even though it took me a lot to find my way to her,

It was worth it
Because she made my misery less miserable because she held my hand through all the other anxiety attacks
and I could breathe around her just fine and
it was nine and it was ‘the time’
so I reached out — (this time, I did, yes, I did)
and said
‘hey do you want to be mine because I do and I’d rather deal with my anxiety with you beside me than deal with it away from you’
and oh, I had just reached out when, there was a clap, a thunder, a bang, a boom
and no wonder — she caught me and she was running and in no time we were hugging because yes, it was a yes, yes.

Read also:
How I’m Dealing With Anxiety
Every Day Is A New Day
Songs To Listen To On Poor Mental Health Days