Dear Anxiety,

For a long time, I hated myself for the days you won.
The days I couldn’t get out of bed.
The days I canceled plans.
The days I cried and shook and felt like a burden to everyone around me.

I carried so much shame.
I thought every bad day meant I was failing.
That if I was strong enough, I wouldn’t feel this way.

But that’s not true.

Bad days aren’t failures.
They’re part of healing.
They’re part of living.

So today, I’m choosing forgiveness.

I forgive myself for the days I was too tired to fight.
I forgive myself for the panic attacks, the canceled plans, the missed moments.
I forgive myself for surviving the best way I knew how at the time.

You don’t get to weaponize my past against me anymore.

Every hard day I lived through is a testament to my strength — not my weakness.

I am allowed to have bad days.
I am allowed to be human.
I am allowed to forgive myself.

I am proud of how far I’ve come, even if the road was messy.

And I’m not carrying shame with me anymore.

— Shanice