Title: Anxiety
Written by: Marli Wright

Anxiety seems like a joke;
But unless you experience it, you never truly know.
It hurts, captures, consumes your soul, and you never know when it will start to show.
Sure, I look fine. My appearance isn’t affected. Maybe just some bags under my eyes, nothing makeup can’t cover.
You don’t understand the pit in my stomach, the lump in my throat, the shaking within my body.
Anxiety… invisible to you, but I feel it. Every time a child cries out for their mommy, a piece of my soul withers. You can’t see the hurt behind my eyes, the relentless voices in my head I can’t shake.
Yet you call me strong? Strong for hiding how I really feel? I want to scream, “Why can’t I have my baby!?”
Instead, there’s a faint smile, a nod of my head, and you think I’m okay.
You don’t see the walls closing in. You don’t feel the pressure of your expectations and disapproving glances. I see the disappointment in your eyes, pulling me down faster than any sinking stone. I’m drowning in sorrow, with no lifeboat in sight.
Anxiety – once mocked as fake, now I can’t unsee your ugly face. Normalcy feels like a distant dream I once lived. But you think I’m fine again. I’m not fine! Can’t you see? Oh, it’s because I’m a good actor, playing the “helpless” warrior, Act 3: page 10.