The Invisible Wire Around My Throat

Dear Delyara, I woke up twenty minutes ago at 1:45 AM with my heart slamming violently against my ribs, suffocating under an immediate, crushing wave of dread before my eyes could even focus on the dark ceiling. There is no physical threat in this room—the door is double-locked, the window is shut—yet my body is reacting as if I am staring down a loaded weapon. This chronic anxiety is an exhausting, invisible monster. It turns my own mind into a hostile environment where every casual comment from a colleague is interpreted as a sign of imminent ruin, and every quiet moment is hijacked by worst-case scenarios. My hands are shaking so badly I can barely type these words, and the muscles in my neck are locked tight like iron bands. I am completely running on adrenaline and fear, terrified that one single misstep will cause the fragile deck of cards that is my life to come crashing down around me.