The Last Text

My phone has become a source of distress.

I can no longer deal with my phone sitting at my side while I go on the computer, completing my school work. I try to numb out the thoughts, scrolling through Pinterest and writing through happy scenarios with my beloved characters. It takes a moment to forget about what it has done.

I try to remember the last text I received. From my mother, it said something about her going out while I went for a walk. I acknowledge all the opportunity I have with my phone, like taking pictures and referencing Google in the classroom. However, it has been a source of pain and misery. 

I can't blame anyone else for it. 

Any time I have tried to offer advice to people, I am shut down, brushed aside, or told off. If I try to offer a coping skill, people refuse to hear me out. People refuse to listen to what I want to say about the anxious mind. Maybe you are thinking it's an exaggeration, it's the cognitive distortion of black and white thinking.

Hear me out: it's a pattern. A constant pattern of disappointing others and betraying their trust; people behind the screens thinking I know better than to try and help them, yet proceeding to tell me I ignore their ache; apologizing for yelling and getting upset at the lunch table, causing panic and encouraging my own problematic behaviours; trying far too hard to talk to friends for one of them to pack up his pre-pandemic life, six months later. 

And whenever I try to help someone in distress, I panic. I freak out in response. My body trembles and my limbs go numb, trying to grab at the most stable surface I can find. It's all my fault though. It has ruined my friendships. It has ruined what we used to have, and nothing will be back to how it used to be.

And it's all because I've become far more accessible. The words on my screen torment me. They slowly become different, never to be the same again. Can you tell I struggle with change? 

A positive mindset is far from enough to cope with feeling like someone's out to get you again.

My mind goes through this process anytime I pick up my phone at noon. From 12 to 3 PM, she goes to work at a place called overthinking. To society, her workplace provides distress over what others do not notice. It can paralyze, or beg for my body to rock back and forth to free me from the feeling. 

When I saw the light flashing, I forgot how to breathe. My heart pumped, prepared for the marathon of an intense conversation. It moved from my throat to my stomach to my abdomen, begging to free the waste from my body so I could run faster. My body told me to run, but my mind told me to turn on the screen and face the enemy.

As I clicked the button to turn on my screen, it showed an uncanny notification.

"Remember 3 years ago, on June 20th, 2018? Revisit your memories on Google Photos." 

I took a deep breath, exhaling with as much force to expel the energy coursing through me. Nobody needed me. Nobody asked for my demands and regretted them afterwards. Nobody needed me! 

Thank goodness. I placed my hand on my chest. Nobody needed me. No more disappointment, no more ache, no more need to try and analyze why I'm feeling this way. Nobody needed me right now, and it brought me great relief.

A fake screenshot of a text conversation between me and my phone.

My Phone: Wyd?

Me: Nothing. Nothing at all. And nothing with you either.

My Phone: Remember 3 yrs ago?

Me: Of course. When everything was easier. I didn't have a phone back at our graduation in 2018.

My Phone: Phone = freedom

Me: More like an expectation to maintain as many phone numbers as possible. But yeah, it has made a few things in life easier.