About General Anxiety My Comical War
My personal stories about general anxiety
I was 15, it was a new class…new teacher…role
call time…and I was tense as a cat on coals.
It was yet another day of seemingly another
cruel teacher and my anxiety was throttling by
the minute into high gear.
I hated role call…hated the nervous and almost
paralyzing quietness; grew nauseous through the
dreaded waiting of my own name to leave the
teachers lips. Would my voice be loud
enough for her to hear? Probably not!
Then everyone will look at me, just like last
time and wait for me to use pronunciation loud
enough for human hearing instead of that of the
fly sitting quietly and almost rudely upon my
“Here!” I squeaked awkwardly in my desperate
attempt to avoid the horror of past failure.
Few! She heard me, thank goodness, I’m
I began to relax out of my ready to run pose of
terror, letting myself sit back for what I hoped
would be a anxiety free lecture.
“SPEECH” the teacher writes on the board in
large, screaming, nail shredding white chalk.
“No” I whisper just below my breath, my chest
beginning to suddenly tighten into small heaved
My mind begins to race as my eyes search quickly
for the exit just in front of popular club guys
nodding head. I lock my eyes to the front
chalkboard, too fearful to catch the gaze of my
new torture loving teacher’s eyes; can’t
possibly risk being called for to be her first
blood sacrifice of front of the room
It worked and she picked the sucker up front.
Silently I breathed a temporary sigh of relief,
containing my mental quest of escape from this
new anxiety hell hole.
As the minutes rage on I carve my plan of
avoidance. After class I’ll tell the
teacher I have a condition…seizures or something
that prevent me from walking up front.
Maybe I could bring on a fake throwing up…or
I lean back in my desk as far as possible,
trying my best to blend into the dark shadows
Finally, the bell rings out in my ears like a
beautiful, phenomenal orchestra of victory…my
own personal star spangled banner of freedom!
Alas, free two more days until next time, and I
have made it through my war and lived.
I walk out into the crowded hall, smiling
politely at the unaware teacher as I passed,
knowing her reign of terror now held no more
power over me as I skipped rejoicing to the exit
Seems to me that it’s people that battle anxiety
who live the richest emotion in this world.
What other common thing can evoke such
thanksgiving and bliss? :)