I walked down the road as casually as I could manage. My anxiety was rampaging through my head as each person brushed past me.

There are too many of them. Too many, too many, too many.

I was diagnosed with social anxiety when i was only little. Now it has heightened and become worse.

The only person I talk to is my boyfriend because he understand why i am the way i am. My mother doesn’t know. My father is dead. My siblings are across the country. No therapist or councilor either. Just Ein.

He was the only one who talked to me normally because he understood. He had worse anxiety than I did. much worse.

He was just one beggar telling another where to find bread. Just another ant helping out a friend.

Yet I can’t shake the feeling that the bread may not be what it seems. That maybe the help is harm in disguise.