When I first started to experience anxiety attacks, I felt I was losing my mind. I felt myself searching in books for someone or something to help me understand why I felt the way I did or why I was getting them. I was told to find a hobby that would distract my mind from my own mind. Expressing myself never came easy, and it was hard to talk to anyone about it because no one around me could relate. As I read I would hold on to lines that explained my thoughts and emotions. I would use quotes from books to be able to express how I felt and how it felt when I would get them. I feel I get strength from the characters I read. I felt I was starting to get ahold of myself. I figured if an author isn't considered insane, and some books are crazy imaginative, then I must not be either. At the end of the day they were thoughts of the most irrational possibilities of getting hurt. Which of course me plugging in my phone charger into an electrical outlet would be unbelievably slim in getting electrocuted. But, with anxiety, it’s hard to not fear everything. I was determined to not allow anxiety to dictate my life and what I wanted to do with it. Books brought me a sense of normal, I felt normal again. I felt I was able to finally catch my breath and stay grounded. On overwhelming days, I dive into a book and allow myself to only focus on it and nothing else. I don't think of the billion possibilities of how something can hurt me. I must admit it feels great to not be in constant panic mode because I'm not focusing on it just the book story. It’s why I appreciate authors, because their stories are capable of doing so much. Living with anxiety, Books have kept my mind grounded from my own mind.