I hate my anxiety because it isn't me. It tells me people want to hurt me when I know it isn't true. It tells me that my voice is annoying so I shouldn't say anything. Then the depression comes along. it tells me my own thoughts are correct. that I am worthless. that I cant survive on my own. that I am so co-dependent on people I will never move out of my grandparent's house, that ill never be good enough to do anything worthwhile. I hate my anxiety and depression when they team up because they make me as bitter as the blackest coffee you've ever tasted. they make me lash out at those that only means to help me. they hold me back and kick me, then laugh when I cant get back up. The medicine only helps for so long. Therapy works, it's nice to have someone to talk to but in the end, I have to fight this. I think I'm losing.