My Name is Sara and I Suffer From Anxiety

Last night I awoke to little chubby hands touching my face. When I opened my eyes, there stood my 5-yr-old, staring at me with a look of panic. Mom. Can I sleep with you? I have a scary feeling. I slid over to the middle of our bed and let him get under the quilt. Then, I wrapped my arm around him as he drifted back to sleep. …

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