This Is Me

A Grand Thing (Part One)

A Grand Thing (Part One)

The walk out of my room seemed as though it was taking a lot longer than it should. The fact that I stopped at my door to admire the paint job only made it take longer.

"You don't have to do it right now, Pete," Blaire said softly beside me as I was standing statue-still at my bedroom door.

"I know," I whispered back, feeling the words get caught in my throat.

I knew I didn't have to come out to my parents right now—or anyone, for that matter. At the same time, however, I knew that I didn't want to keep living a lie. I didn't want to pretend to be someone I wasn't anymore.

People could look at my family and tell me that I had nothing to be worried about. After all, they were nice, understanding people. What do I have to fear?

The thing is, I don't know. Not what I have to fear—I don't know anything, or at least it feels like it. Stripping myself and who I was bare for everyone to see would leave me vulnerable. To be open about who I am in a world where I had seen it was not always welcome was horrifying. In reality, I knew nothing about it. Not anything first-hand, at least.

Who's to say my parents wouldn't be like those who hate who I was? I didn't know.

I didn't know anything, and I was scared.

"You could always crawl back into bed and sleep on it," Blaire said, resting her hand on my shoulder. "Or, come to my place and sleep on it there."

"No, no. I want to do this," I muttered, my voice cracking and shaking as I spoke, almost as if in protest.

"All right. Well, I'm right here."

Giving a small nod to my door—not having the confidence to look at Blaire—I took in the shakiest breath of my life and opened my bedroom door.

My heart was thumping loudly in my chest and I was sure Blaire could hear it. My stomach began to twist and fold in on itself as I took my first step out of the bedroom. Everything about me seemed heavy. Every step that I took forward felt like I had walked one hundred thousand before it. Each movement I made felt like my insides were being weighed down by bricks.

Every inch of my body was seemingly trying to tie me to one spot and stop me from moving. I tried to swallow and push forward, but a lump had formed at the back of my throat, making it ten times more difficult.

One foot after the other, the realisation of what I was doing seemed to dawn on me, over and over again. Every situation played on replay in my head, as my stomach continued to spin around faster and faster.

It wasn't until I came to a stop at the top of the stairs, I realised I hadn't been breathing. As soon as I inhaled, a part of me wished that I hadn't. The moment oxygen reached my lung, it felt as if my nervous system got a kickstart. My hands started to shake and my legs almost buckled underneath me. The surface of my skin seemed to crawl, and the one breath in turned into rapid breathing.

I quickly gripped the railing of the staircase to stop myself from falling, and I felt Blaire's arm wrap around me, too.

"You all right?" She asked quietly, and I managed to shake my head. "Panic attack?"

"No," I whispered back. "I-I'm just..." My voice trailed off as I tried to find the words I wanted to say, but I couldn't.

I knew I wasn't having a panic attack. I think I was nothing more than scared. Scared that if did this, everything would change. Scared my parents would see me differently. That they wouldn't love me.