It's hardly a secret that in the mental health field, everyone gets their take. There is no definitive medical test for any mental illness, and most mental health professionals don't have the time or resources to dig as deep as one hopes.

Most days I feel like I'm breaking and entering -in search of a place I fit. A narcissistic fantasy? The inverse reflection of all the pain I've kept on ice... The parts of the story that are hoped for, soon forgotten, and incredibly unlikely to come true. Living with anxiety: control?

When I say self-inflicted, I don't mean deliberate, nor do I necessarily mean conscious, and I don't mean it in the sense of self-harm, either. I mean it in the sense that anxiety, mental illness, is continuous, forceful injury to the ego - and unavoidably, inextricably linked-in to our idea of self. If anxiety isn't my fault, then whose fault is it? The question doesn't help. I'd ban it, if I could. Fault?

I've had serious anxiety issues since I was about 12, give or take. Growing up, I guess I internalized the way people look at you when they think you're crazy; The questions they ask, and the far more terrible ones they don't. Why can't I deal with this mental health thing without causing so much trouble, anyway?! Sometimes I feel like I just don't get it; Like I can't, or won't, or something somewhere inside is keeping me from understanding enough about myself, mental health, how to heal things. Anxiety: All in all, another brick in the wall?

You say, "Don't worry, be happy." Oh! So that's totally how this anxiety thing works: I just won't worry. Why didn't I think of that before?! Next time my throat closes up and I can't leave the house, it won't be a problem... In my spare time I'll skydive, shoe shop and rave. Oh wait, I'm not Lindsay Lohan. And I'm afraid of heights, crowds and loud noises. Now I remember why I hate platitudes. They don't work.