Dear Anxiety...

Dear Anxiety,

I tried working with you. I thought talking to you as a friend would help, because you know my preference is working with others and not against. I know you're meant to protect me in certain situations, but you seem to not understand...

You're not the one in control... I am.

You seem to have forgotten that, but more importantly, you seem to have forgotten that not everything is a threat to us. Not everyone has an ulterior motive when trying to help us. Not everyone is doing things for money, for torment of others or anything of the sort. The world may be cruel, but I've worked hard to surround myself with the best people I possibly can. You've been there for the ride, hell, you even helped pick out the people. But... Why can't you trust the people you helped surround us with? It's funny, I just asked you that and all thoughts stopped and I got a bit short of breath. It's ok to not know the answer to things, I know we've been working on our concern about that for a considerable amount of time.

The rubber band I put on my wrist today is to not put a leash on you, it's to help *us*. We're tired, you know that and I know that. It is another way I can communicate with you, that you seem to be responding better than anything else I've tried. We've defined situations where anxiety is warranted, and we are slowly being able to identify when it's not when a situation reveals itself. Tomorrow's a new day, Anxiety. Get some sleep.

-The Landlord