A Roommate Called Anxiety

Previously living just you and yourself;
A picture of positive mental health.

Your mind a place of domestic joy;
No one around to pester or annoy.

Thoughts the only company you need;
A content and happy life to lead.

Hearing a knock on the door in your head;
Gone is the bliss, replaced by dread.

Someone stands there, bags in tow;
A foot in the door, no intention to go.

Walking in and staking a claim;
Your roommate is here, Anxiety their name.

Sharing your space, a difficult task;
Your concern behind a smiling mask.

At first the annoyance, trivial and small;
Behaviour filled with arrogance and gall.

Causing clutter, not taking care;
Thoughts here and worries there.

They say ‘tidy house, tidy mind’;
A place to enjoy, relax and unwind.

This roommate offers no such peace;
The mockery and contempt do not cease.

Night time falls, to catch some winks;
Into the pillow, your head sinks.

As your eyes begin to close;
You’re soon awakened from the doze.

In your ears a deafening sound;
Head-splitting noise, you fall to the ground.

Reaching the source, what do you see?;
Anxiety sat in the noise, carefree.

Your request for silence, falls on deaf ears;
The inability to rest brings you to tears.

In the morning you wake, curled on the floor;
Physically tired and mentally sore.

Looking around, you are all alone;
Finally the master of your home.

A time is spent much less stressed;
Without that nightmare of a guest.

Order, repose and calm restored;
But soon replaced with fractious discord.

The silence is shattered like never before;
As Anxiety returns, plus one more.

This friend’s nature is sullen and dark;
Brought to anger with the slightest spark.

Each word a cruel and personal joke;
Every insecurity prodded and poked.

Until you feel an inadequate mess;
What makes you special, you slowly suppress.

Inside you’re broken, surrounded by haze;
Lost and lonely in an emotional maze.

At your worst, the friend has a confession;
“I’m here to stay, my name is Depression.”

Between them they trash your humble abode;
The walls fall in as your mind they corrode.

When they’re done and had their fill;
You remain on the floor, hurting and still.

Building courage, you stand and fight;
Pushing them out with all your might.

Closing the door, you turn the key;
Hoping once and for all, you are free.

Anxiety bangs and shouts and hits;
Until the door cracks and splits.

A beady eye is peeking in;
Then a spiteful laugh and vile grin.

“We’re leaving now, there’ll be no attack;
When you least expect it, we will be back.”

You shout loud, with strength from inside;
“I’ll be waiting and I will not hide!

Come back here as much as you please;
But my mind, my home, you will never seize.”

By Paul Webster