by Grace O’Connor ’22
She feels stuck at the moment like glue
Unable to escape her internal misery.
Oxygen barely fills up her shallow lungs,
As her glassy eyes are begging for relief.
White dots start to blur her vision,
She tries to remember how to breathe.
Her head feels heavy like an oversized bowling ball,
Falling over from her weak grip.
In moments like these, she craves comfort
Not feeling suffocated in open space.
She feels the most alone during these times.
Her body becomes her own worst enemy, but
The only thing keeping her alive.
As her nervous impulses floods through her body,
She starts to doubt any progress she has made.
She does not trust herself or the world around her.
Isn’t this where worry comes from?
She is wary of every fleeting thought,
Fighting it every step of the way.
Fighting every tiny detail.
Her brain is her rival.
Forming and reforming every rash thought,
Her brain is the gatekeeper to happiness or misery.
It is her brain’s default instinct to hold her back,
From pain, hurt, disappointment.