“Thank you for showing me that I’m a badass because I deal with you every moment of everyday.”
robynmac / Getty Images / Via Anna Borges / BuzzFeed News
Fuck you. Fuck you for ruining my life. Fuck you for turning me into someone I'm not. Fuck you for making me weak. Fuck you for taking away my opportunities and my dreams. Fuck you for making me so unhappy. Fuck you for making everything so hard. Fuck you for making me fight this battle every single day of my life.
You've overstayed your welcome. I've endured nine years of panic attacks, lost sleep, lost appetite, dealt with vomiting, heart palpitations, sweating, shaking, and suicidal thoughts. To rid myself of you, I've tried seven different types of meds, seen eight+ therapists, visited two crisis clinics, had three blood tests, and read a stack of self-help books. Like I tell my many doctors who look for reasons to deny me the benzo prescription I rely on to get me through an episode, I've also tried yoga, exercise, diet changes, vitamins, deep breathing, affirmations, and prayer. Yet, here you are.
When I met you at 19 in the bathroom of a college dorm, you terrified me. But now at 28, you're simply a nuisance. I know now there's no monster under the bed, but that doesn't stop you from trying to convince me there is. Give up. Go home. And give me my fucking life back.