Writing Prompt: An Open Letter To My Anxiety

 Prompt: Write a letter to your anxiety and tell it it’s not needed anymore.

An Open Letter To My Anxiety

Hey anxiety, I’ve got a message for you: Fuck off.

For decades you have plagued me, driving me to alcohol and weed to manage you. What a disaster that was. I’ve been in countless therapists’ offices trying to analyze you and mitigate your damage, making only minimal progress with no real relief. I’ve knocked on psychiatrists’ doors, begging for medication to blunt your ferocious attacks. And I’ve been in support groups, commiserating with other souls tormented by you.

Anxiety, you’ve caused enough damage. It’s time for you to go.

I’m wondering if you’ve hung around so long because I’ve wrapped you up in my identity. Oh look at me, I’m anxious mess Melissa, master of catastrophic mind-fuckery. I’ve clung to you because you’re so familiar, wake up in the morning, grab coffee then worry, ready, set, go. What, pray tell, might I be able to accomplish if I chuck you out of my life, perhaps I’m scared to find out?

Anxiety, there’s no room in my life anymore for you. Please leave.

In February I found a new therapist, Matt, who has been doing eye movement therapy on you and I’m seeing great improvement. My morning catastrophizing has been almost completely nipped in the bud, and I’m feeling driven to get out of the house and just move, just start experiencing life like a normal person. Kudos to me for doing this work, I moved into action to break free of your hold. You will not monopolize my time anymore, I hit rock bottom with you, and I’m done.

Anxiety, I’m now moving into action. You can’t hold me back anymore.

This month I turn 58. I’m blessed to be retired, finances under control, joined by my husband Michael and Basset Hound Lily in a simple, mostly predictable life. I am safe, I am secure, anxiety I won’t let you interfere with my happiness anymore, I won’t let you disrupt my peace and serenity I am trying to architect. I have a say in how the rest of my life plays out, I play a part in the narrative.

Anxiety, I’m drafting the story of this next chapter of my life. I’m writing you out of the script.

Goodbye to you, anxiety. I certainly won’t miss you. I don’t need you, I’ve never needed you, I’m not living in the wilderness needing “fight or flight” to protect me from a scary tiger. I’m letting go, my Higher Power has got things. Deep breath. I’m going to be OK.