This post was originally written for the Koladaisi University Writers Community. I've had the privilege of reading many amazing write-ups on the topic 'anxiety', and I found myself deeply inspired by the raw emotions and unique perspectives shared.
Here's my own attempt to contribute and all I could say is that they've written it all
I sit here, staring at the blank page.
The words,they’ve already been said.
Every thought, every feeling,
Poured out by someone else, somewhere else.
Isn’t that anxiety?
The fear of being too late,
Too quiet, too loud,
Or maybe just not enough?
But what if anxiety isn’t an enemy?
What if it’s a spark, a restless fire,
Asking me to move,
To create,
To breathe life into something only I can give?
I tell myself to write anyway.
To let the words come,
Even if they sound borrowed,
Even if they shake.
Because anxiety isn’t silent,
It hums, it buzzes, it fills the room.
So I’ll shape it into something real.
I’ll let it push me forward,
Not hold me back.
And maybe that’s the point,
To write it out,
To name it,
To let it breathe.
So here it is.
Not perfect. Not new.
But mine.
And yes this is enough.
