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Anxiety came with me to the party.

Anxiety came with me to the park.

Anxiety came with me to the store and followed me right out the door.

Everywhere I walked, there it was.

Frantically trying to make sense of it all, I felt scared and alone. Anxiety watched me everywhere I roamed.

Until one day, I saw anxiety in the corner, next to my bed, and I asked, “Would you like to join me?”

It wiggled and jiggled.

I looked at it right in the face and said, “I love you.”

It was shocked and even slightly concerned.

“You’ve never said that to me before,” it questioned, pondered, wondered, and wandered around my bedroom for a while.

Then I said again, “I love you.”

It turned with a quick swoop and declared, “I thought you didn’t care.”

“I do really love you. I post about you on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter. I tell everyone about you.”

“Yes, but do you love me? I’ve never heard that from your lips. You always talk about me but never actually love me.”

“Oh!” I was taken aback.

I thought for a while as anxiety paced around my bed. I tried to get it to stop. I texted my friend, moved left then right, and then right and left, but it was still there.

Now, it made its way to my underwear drawer, throwing undies and intimates in every direction. This way and that. I screamed and shouted. I stomped, and I pouted.

“Please stop! You are making a mess out of everything!”

It turned around and looked me straight in the face and said, “Now you’re paying attention? Finally.”

I finally gave in, surrendered to the manic and panic that my anxiety had caused. I thought to myself, “Well, I’ve tried everything,” and I bluntly stated, “I give up.”

The moment the words slipped out of my mouth, anxiety came over, curled up beside me, and we fell asleep.

You see, when I resisted, it got worse. But when I surrendered to it, it released its remorse.

Surrendering to love, it now had a place to live and to feel safe. I held it, and it held me, and when I woke up the very next morning, it was gone, never to be seen again.

Where did it go? Maybe I will never know.

A few months later, I received a postcard from my anxiety. It was now in Florida, serving cocktails at a poolside lounge.

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