I keep re-opening old wounds. Wounds that I had thought that I had let scar over, wounds that frankly I had for a good amount of time forgot even existed. Wounds I am quite honestly too ashamed and embarrassed of speaking of. I basically don't even remember what it is like to live without anxiety nowadays unless I'm high or drunk. Even when I'm with others it's gnawing at me. 

I don't even have any new things to cause me anxiety, but because I've basically conditioned myself into this state every morning I think of a wound to re-open, and pick the scars off and let it hurt fresh all over again. It's just a subconscious habit at this point, not even something I can control. I can't control my own thoughts, feeling like a prisoner in my own head. If I don't even have possession over my own thoughts, then who am "I" really? Who is "me"????