I sashay around with a smile, giggles, and wide eyes. My wide eyes ready for new adventures and stepping outside my line of comfort. I push back the pounding anxiety that comes when I speak or fabricate a single noise to anyone. Did they look at me funny? Did I say something weird? I continue to converse with humans although I just want to scramble back to a dark, unoccupied room. I try to bolt away from the pounding anxiety centered in my stomach and head, but like elastic it rapidly retakes its original position.

I search for escapades, gregarious people, and I speak daringly. I want to be the well-liked extrovert, but I secretly cry nervously if too many people are in one place. Also my heartbeat rises, and I just want to slouch down and disappear into my own world. I laugh to cover the sound of my thumping heart and continue to live life without a hint of my inescapable fear. I talk to people with a pretend confidence and a fake fearless grin when in reality I jump at the sense of touch or sound.

I laugh uncontrollably, but I analyze every second of it. I write a sentence that I am afraid of and I hit the backspace key. Fear smiles, giggles, and speaks daringly right besides me. When I walk anywhere I lift my head and look behind me only to see fear holding my hand. When I speak to anyone I encounter fear looking into my eyes. When I write I see fear typing beside me. I want to be carefree, brave, and unflinching, but I can’t if my body is filled half with fear from the past, fear of the present, and fear of the future. I want to escape my never-ending maze of anxiety, but how can I if I am the fear within me?