High Anxiety

A mum’s view


Sometimes he thinks it would be easier if he were dead
No more OCD, anxiety, no more dread
Imagine being too scared to open your own front door
So many times he cries, ‘I can’t take it any more’
Thoughts keep him up all night, in the day he stays in bed
No school, no job, no going out, living in his head
It all comes down to worrying ‘What if I am sick’
Can’t say the word though, calls it ‘ill’ using a mind trick
He limits himself to four ‘safe’ foods in tiny bites
So tired and weak from all the mental battles he fights
His heart races all the time; panic rising so high
My poor boy suffers alone, as others’ lives go by