essay

Every time the anxiety attacks me, the despair will filled in my mind, and I prefer lying in bed than sitting, for I am afraid that sitting will also exhaust my energy. Tensing the curtain, turning on the light on my desk, and I am bundled by the quilt. This will make me feel better. However, the headache is still winding my nerves, and there are waves of pain. Can not think of anything I interested in and be motivate to do, even sleep.

Extremely ashamed, I have to take out the medicine box, swallow one pill, and then back to bed.The pill which is even smaller than my fingernail, will bring me relaxation and the mind of muddle along. 10 minutes after I taking it, the idea is generated,"Another day of living is waiting for me, just survive."

Too many things to worry about. Some are the immediate crisis, others are long-term troubles. None of them are easy to deal with. The only way for me to defend them is having a pill every day. I always image someone to help me, but those who want to help me most are even more nervous than me. Because of love, their nerves become exceedingly sensitive, caring about every movement of mine, and their emotion always shift following my uncertain mood. Therefore, I won't tell them my deepest anxiousness.

Maybe I am also too sensitive, I often pretend to be inadvertently and observe other's attitude, and then I can learn most of what that person is thinking about. Sometimes it is useful, I can handle this situation with ease. However sometimes I feel really tired, for even I know that person's attitude to me, I still can't understand what is the reason he or she would be like that. Is it his or her natural character to everyone, or because of my mistake still unknown to me? If we have no conflict of interest, that is not too important, but if we have, I had to consider it all the time

High ideals are no doubt the motivation of one's power, but in the real life it is full of variable things. Therefore I know what surrounded me and what I am experiencing today may all disappear tomorrow, become a kind of history, a shadowy dream. Not able to look up into the most blue sky, breath the most fresh air and make friend with the most polite people, all of them will disappear in my life. I will have no opportunity, even no reason, to come back, even have an appeal of the old house I have once lived in, I can only come back within the dream; all those furnitures, neighbors and landscapes, lovely birds and beautiful flowers...... In the future, no matter where I go and have a trip, and no matter how beautiful the landscape that place owns, I will always cast down my eyes and be sorrow for a while.

Until now, I have realized that, although undoubtedly I am nice, it doesn't mean I am able to assess all the nice things in this world. On the contrary something which has never been thought of as nice often come into my life. Maybe it is the real test of fate, only in heaven can I always meet whatever I'd like to.

I will go back to another world. A world where people will not deliberately cover up the defect part of their character, there are unclad interest within people's relationships. No matter how difficult to bear the sight of frightfulness, I have to confess that it it the real life.

I always try to avoid meeting the dim part of world, now that I am not able to do so, I have to try to protect myself and maintain the justice myself. Remain the ideal world in my mind for ever.