The mere mention of the word "anxiety" sends shivers down my spine. I often find myself frozen with overwhelming thoughts, struggling to calm down as people around me offer well-intentioned advice. It's just who I am, I thought - my eccentric self. The feeling of being overwhelmed engulfs me, leaving me restless and constantly fidgeting. I've dealt with this since forever, evident from my nonexistent fingernails. Perhaps you'd ask about my childhood. It was comfortable, but I was no easy child to handle. A defining aspect of my early years was the intense "people-pleasing" I engaged in. Being liked was my lifeline, and I went to great lengths to gain appreciation. Emotions consumed me, and they still do. Behind the facade of a writer, I wore a mask to hide my anxiety. I let it sabotage my relationships and dream opportunities, leaving me in disarray. My ambition to be a travel blog writer was curtailed by anxiety's relentless grip. I beli