anxiety is control. anxiety is lack thereof. anxiety is exhaustion from being the glue of the household – the crafting of personal questions i dont listen for the answer to/the seemingly effortless way i highlight common connections between roommates/the forced smile i bear when working to improve my broken relationships with those in the house. anxiety is the unbridled fear and racing heart when your roomates joke around without you. do they need me at all? i work so hard. im never appreciated. do they notice my efforts? do they see through my forced façade: peacemaker? my heart is racing and thumping and my blood pounding and soaring. im pulsing. im nauseous. anxiety is this and every carefully crafted notch inbetween. anxiety is controlling, consuming. anxiety is this. im going to be sick.