confession - Somewhat Okay

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
not really short as the title claims, but it's decently written I think, kind of a part two of "Shut up Anxiety - short poem"

Submitted: April 22, 2019

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Submitted: April 22, 2019



Deleting and repeating, I can’t decide what to write, I can’t decide on a subject this isn’t right, I can’t show family my work, I can’t show my friends my work, I can’t let them give me suggestions, I’m falling deeper in this hole of nothingness, I’m drifting away from reality, is a pill the only thing that can save me? Is a pill the hero that can take this pain away? I ask myself this every day of every night, I question it in my dreams but again Anxiety talks me out of it, can the pills really make him go away? At this point I value Anxiety as my friend, I value him as my enemy at the same time, this is my battle to fight, this is my enemy to face, I know he can’t be taken away, I know he’ll be with me forever until I die, I know the pills will only mute him, but deep down I still see him, deep down I know he’ll make it much worse when I unmute him, I know he’ll shoot me in the heart with a painful fire of shadow, I know he’ll strangle me, I know he’ll bash me for calling him a him, I know he’ll bash me for everything I’ve worked for, I know he’s always watching me, he’s watching me as I write, I know he’s talking to me while I do this, he’s an imaginary friend that I can’t even face, he’s the Devil himself.

I’m not a victim, I’m not a saint, I’m a bad person who deserves this hate, and maybe that’s why I know I can’t seek help, maybe this is the reason, I punish other people to release anger from my soul, Anxiety loves it when I do this, Anxiety praises me for doing this, I do this because it benefits me, it makes me hurt a lot less, he’s nice while I do it, but when I really think he hits me in the stomach for it, he won’t make up his mind.

The smallest things give me a panic attack, I predict the future too much and it hurts me every day, I can’t enjoy life anymore, I don’t know the feeling of happiness anymore, I stay in my room all day because everything out there hurts me, I’m sensitive to the traumatizing noises…

I had another panic attack yesterday by a single noise, it slapped me with memories, I knew it was Anxiety, he is the dictator of my feelings, the god of my mental state, the Lord of my depression, he forces me to bow to him, he makes me weak when I do this.

I enjoy arguing with people, it makes me a bad person, I don’t feel anything when somebody insults me, but when they compliment me I feel worse, I ignore the compliment and I get nervous, I feel I need to cry whenever they praise me, I feel I never have power and they give me that feeling, the feeling I run away from, the feeling I hate, the headaches punishing me for being praised, while writing these confession poems when I’m not judging my work, it does release pain, this is a healthy way of doing it, this is a nice way of doing it, this is a great way of doing it, apparently Anxiety doesn’t think the same, but now I need to think the same way as him, I don’t have a mind anymore, it’s been taken over my Anxiety, it’s been ruined by the self-doubt, the person I used to be is the person I’m dying to be, I know the old me couldn’t stand the weak person I am today, the old me who was happy and praised for his creativity is dead, I am dead, I have died, I will die.


“Hello, I’m not dead, I’m deep inside, you won’t let yourself become who you really are, you claim you want to change but you still use red text, you claim you want to change but you do as the Devil commands, you claim you want to change yet you don’t tell anyone about your problems, you need to actually seek change, you aren’t going to become happy by writing these poems, you aren’t going to become happy bashing your work. You are not dislikable, your work is not bad, you're not a hideous person, nobody is, now I don’t want to sound egotistical but you are an awesome person, a great fictionist, even if you don’t get the success you so desperately desire you will have a meaningful life, you do have a meaningful life, you know you don’t want death, you know you fear it, you know you just want the pain to stop and it can, take my hand we’ll make you happier, sure it will take some time, but you survived this long an extra few months won’t be a problem,”


“Hello there, you may think I’m Anxiety but your wrong, I’m simply your self-doubt, Anxiety couldn’t bother to face such a disgrace, to face such a coward, to face someone seeking help from someone that exists no more, even if you manage to slowly kill Anxiety off, you know another problem will get in your way, there is no true happiness in this world, look at yourself, your up at 3:01 AM writing this, you are choosing what I say, you are assuming my insults, if you think this will help you in the slightest you really are a loser.”


“Self-doubt is right in a way, you think we’re real but we’re just another work of fiction that won’t help you, do something for once, be someone for once, go to bed, don’t worry about it, I’ll be watching over you like the god’s above, I’ll keep Anxiety away, you know I can’t do this forever, you know I’m not an entire unit, Anxiety is powerful than all of us, he can take over you so he can take over me, both of us are not strong enough to fight him face to face, go to bed, wake up peacefully, walk outside and mute the noise, stop fearing the future and just relax, get rid of the thoughts and simply just relax, get rid of this pain please don’t get killed for this.”


“I’m not going to be silent anymore, I am not someone that can just take command and do it without problems, I respect who I am, I know I’m great, I use red text because it best describes my pain, You make it sound easy to avoid a command, if I don’t obey I’ll have another panic attack, telling someone about my problems is the hardest thing I can do, the hardest chore I could finish. You say I won’t become happy by writing poems when the fact is it’s working, even if it won’t work forever it’s still worth it, even if it doesn’t take the pain away forever it is still great, I don’t feel happy doing it, I feel worth it, I’m not going to take your hand, you won’t make this right, I’m the only one who can fix this, I’m the only one who can solve this, telling people problems have been proven to be a mistake.

Self-doubt, Anxiety isn’t facing because he’s disgusted with me, Anxiety is scared of me, Anxiety knows the only way he can harm me is if I fear him, Anxiety is Freddy Kruger who can be easily beat, Anxiety fears me as much as I fear him, we both are the same, we have power, he just has an advantage over me at the moment, and you are right, after this problem there will be another, but that’s the thrill of living, I can’t wait to face my next enemy, you and your illness will fear me once I’m finished with Anxiety, you will die too. I’m tired of this, I won’t let any of you dictate how I live my life, I won’t let anybody command me, that is how I became like this in the first place, it’ll be a fearsome fight, it’ll be a fight I’ve been waiting for my entire life, here I come.”  



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