Living with Pain

Chapter 3: Last First Day of High School

Sky

I slam my hand down on my phone, attempting to silence the blaring alarm. I rub my eyes, groaning. I hate the first day of school. At least this was the last one of high school. I can do this, I try to motivate myself.

I swing myself out of bed, taking note of my pain levels. The new medication seems to be helping. The pain has been kept at a manageable 3-4 level since last week. Always there, but not all consuming. I also feel a little calmer. Maybe my anxiety had been having a greater effect on me then I had realized.

I pull on a pair of dark book cut jeans and a plain v neck black shirt. I can't stand crew neck shirts. Something about the fabric rubbing on my collar bone drives me crazy. My hair gets tied into its customary messy bun. I wash my face, noting the dark circle present under my eyes. I don't normally wear makeup, it takes too much energy, but I put some on today. I can't help but think about Rush. I needed to start putting effort into living, and today that starts with some coverup and mascara.

I pull into the school parking lot, finding a spot at the back to park. I push myself through the packed hallways. I had forgotten how charged the atmosphere was on the first day of school. Students were everywhere, shouting as they reunited with friends after summer break. The slamming of lockers, yelling, and stomping of feet was a bit overwhelming.

I quickly find my locker, stuff my lunch into it, and make my way to my first period. Thankfully there was no seating chart, so I sit in the back and open my notebook. I take a couple deep breaths, trying to center my mind. I can do this, I repeat.

My joints start to throb and my chest feels tight. I shift in my seat, trying to find a way to be comfortable. I take another deep breath, willing the pain to subside. Pins and needles race up and down my legs. I start to bounce my right leg, the only way to relieve part of the pain caused by restless leg syndrome- another wonderful symptom of fibromyalgia. I totally won in the nervous system department. Not.

I scrawl my pen across my notebook, writing down any words that come to me. If I'm thinking about this, maybe my brain will dull the pain.

Surrounded by the crowds

Alone

Fighting through the wave of noise

Alone

The lights are too bright, the people too close

Yet I feel alone.

Alone with the brain fog.

Alone with the anxiety.

Alone with the pain.

I make it to lunch with minimal awkwardness surrounding first day introductions. "So," Mayson slides into the seat next to me, "how much do you love me?"

"Uh oh," I take a sip of my water. "What did you do?"

"Why do you assume I did something!?" she feigns offense.

"Didn't you?"

"Well, yeah," she gives in. "So, I met this totally gorgeous football player, David, in my third period. He has the most gorgeous eyes and is insanely ripped. I convinced him to come to the party tomorrow along with a bunch of his buddies. I also got the drama group, ballroom dance team, and basketball team to come."

"That's a lot of people," I pale, regretting my brief moment of desire to step out of my comfort zone. Now that I'm back in the school with all the overwhelming stimuli, I'm not sure I can handle a party.

"It will be fun. Don't worry. Besides, Rush is coming," she wiggles her eyebrows up and down.

It's too late to back out now. I also like the idea of seeing Rush again. "Fine."

"Yay!"

"Now, tell me more about David."

As predicted, it got Mayson to change subjects away from me and my possible crush.

"As I said earlier, he is drop dead gorgeous." She continues talking until the bell rings, signaling the end of lunch.