Anxiety

(Store ambience. Shopping cart wheels. Fluorescent lights humming. Slow heartbeat buried deep in the mix.) [Spoken Intro] Anxiety. Funny word for something that can make a grown man feel like he’s dying in the middle of a damn grocery store. Just grab the milk. Grab the bread. Get in. Get out. Go home. Simple. At least that’s what I thought. ⸻ [Verse 1] Pulled into town on a Tuesday afternoon Sat in the truck longer than I meant to Radio playing but I wasn’t listening Just trying to get my head right before I went in Wife said we needed a couple things Dog food, bread, and some groceries Simple enough for most people But my brain likes making shit difficult Grabbed a cart and headed inside Old man smiled, I nodded and passed by Kid running circles near the front door Cashier laughing with somebody at register four Nothing wrong Nothing strange Just another normal damn day But before I even hit aisle one I’m already tracking everyone Exit behind me Front door right Couple by the freezer standing off to the side Guy in a black hoodie looking at his phone Probably minding his business So why am I watching him? ⸻ [Hook] My chest getting tight and I don’t know why Heart beating hard and I’m standing still Too many sounds hitting me at once And every damn one of them feels too real I know I’m home I know I’m safe At least that’s what I keep telling myself Everybody sees a guy buying groceries Nobody sees the shit I still carry ⸻ [Verse 2] Wife’s talking dinner but I barely hear Too busy watching everything around here Checking every doorway every few seconds Making sure I know where the nearest exit is Baby starts crying three aisles away Somebody drops something and my shoulders jump Forklift backing up with that warning beep And my pulse starts climbing for no damn reason Need some air Need some room Store suddenly feels too crowded Guy walks past and brushes my shoulder I spin around before I even think about it Now I’m pissed Now I’m embarrassed Now everybody’s looking Trying to calm myself down Trying not to make a scene Trying not to look like I’m losing my damn mind ⸻ [Pre-Chorus] Breathing shorter Hands shaking Cold sweat running down my back I know what’s happening I know this feeling And I fucking hate that it’s back ⸻ [Chorus] My chest getting tight and I don’t know why Heart beating hard and I’m standing still Too many sounds hitting me at once And every damn one of them feels too real I know I’m home I know I’m safe At least that’s what I keep telling myself Everybody sees a guy buying groceries Nobody sees the shit I still carry ⸻ [Bridge] (Drums disappear. Heartbeat grows louder. Ringing ears.) Forklift slams into something… My heart jumps… Store intercom crackles… Somewhere else somebody’s yelling… Shopping cart rattling… Something else rattling… Baby crying… Somebody screaming… Somebody screaming… Somebody screaming… I know where I am… I know where I am… I know where I am… Then why the fuck don’t I believe it? ⸻ [Breakdown] Exit behind me. Front door right. Family beside me. Keep them close. Watch the hands. Watch the doors. Watch the corners. Watch the crowd. Watch the… Watch the… Watch the… Breathe. ⸻ [Verse 3] Next thing I know I’m outside again Leaning on the truck trying to catch my breath Milk getting warm in the passenger seat Hands still shaking like hell Took twenty damn minutes Just to buy a few things Used up everything I had Before the day was half over People walked right past me Never knew a thing Didn’t see the fight Didn’t hear the noise Didn’t feel the war still living in my head ⸻ [Final Chorus] My chest still hurts but I’m breathing now Trying to slow everything back down Some days I win Some days I don’t Some days anxiety wears the crown I left that war a long damn time ago But parts of me never really came home Everybody sees a man driving away Nobody knows what it took today ⸻ [Outro] (Beat falls away. Acoustic guitar and distant heartbeat.) Got home. Put the groceries away. Sat in the truck another half hour. Couldn’t even tell you why. Kids inside. House is quiet. Everything’s fine. At least that’s what people would see. Truth is… I feel like I worked a twelve-hour shift. And all I did was leave the house. Wife asked if I was alright. Same answer I always give. “Yeah.” … Truth is… I don’t know. But I made it home. And tonight… That’s enough.