Letter #18

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Dear Anxiety,

You're like going through a dark tunnel, where there is no light at the end. It's like being trapped by four walls, with no doors, no windows, no escape. A place where my screams only reach my own ears. There is no one there to help. You're like waiting for the thunder to strike, or hoping that the rain might stop. You are all worry, all tension, all nerves. You are my destruction, my living nightmare, my weaknesses in form. I wish I had the strength to kick you to the curb. 

Sincerely,

Liz

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