'19' Last Days Of Being a Teenager |Memoir

Stress/Strain= You Got This

I scrub my hands against one another as foam gushes out of my white singlet, causing my palms to be soapy. Although I have been on this laundry for the past thirty minutes, I will not leave it anytime soon.

I do so, not because my singlet is that dirty; In fact, it's as white as it can be. I do this to keep my hands busy as thoughts cluster in my head.

How did I arrive here? Let's get into it.

Have you ever been in those situations where a billion thoughts are running through your mind? Like your mind is a browser with fifteen running tabs running at fast speed. And then you are stay motionless trying to focus on one but when you almost achieve that, Silently, like spilt oil, another follow and then three more until a tsunami of thoughts begin to disrupt your mental balance.

This mental imbalance is invisible to the rest of the world around you. That I was before I kept myself busy washing a neat singlet I grabbed from my wardrobe.

As foam and water splatters all over my white tiled bathroom walls, I pause to relax my muscles; And look up to the fluorescent bulb hanging above me. Suddenly the bulb isn't just a bulb anymore.
Sweat dripping from my forehead into my eyes. I stare at this light communicating a message to me. I am trying to articulate a message as my own liquid drips down my neck down to my broad chest.

I could just settle for a low watt bulb. But I bought I high power watt bulb. Because as weird as it may sound The bathroom is where my deepest moments of reflection takes place.
As the bright light displays its rays elegantly all over the bathroom walls. I recognise something I used to have but it seems I have lost, Resilience.

Never have I been one to back down from pressure. Never! So where did the low self-esteem and doubts come from? I know I'm human. And these moments are inevitable.
But times like this should make one stronger to handle greater pressures because life and this path I'm choosing is full of it.
So who am I to desire rewards when I try to escape the stress?

I remove my hands from the foamy dip,
My eyes still fixed on the non-living therapist, I reach out for my towel and dry my hands, my face and chest.

I exit the bathroom to stare at the laptop on my work desk and my phone charging beside it with textbooks I borrowed for the test I have tomorrow. And then that voice. Like an oil spill seeps into my head again.

Are you sure you handle it? Are you sure you are up for this? Can you do it? Are you built for this task?

Drawing my breath in, I knuckle my hands as I dry my feet on the floor mat before heading to my desk,
'There's only one way to find out'.