motive. [shadilver]

04.

SILVER.

I could feel my phone ringing right against my chest, where I had it in case she were to call me... so I could hear it, and feel it. I slowly opened my eyes, tilting the screen of my phone toward me to see the familiar caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Are you okay? Did you make it home?"

After those words, it felt like all that I could do is stare off in front of me, at nothing in particular. I know that Blaze worries about me, but at the same time, it seems like she doesn't do much about it. What would she say or do if I told her that I was doing worse? Well... I won't be able to find out, because I feel fine now.

"Yes, yes. I'm home. Just had to take a break before walking back."

"Why didn't you get a taxi?"
"Oh, god, I would've actually thrown up then."

When friends drive, it's not that much of an issue. At least most of them. They don't drive like they are paid per client as taxis do. The quicker they get their person to their destination, the more clients, and more money. Even though it took me a little longer to get home last night, I'm glad that I stopped for a moment instead of pushing myself. Also because... I think the only reason I was able to make it out of there was because of that guy's help, even though it was small.

"Well, uhm, I'm now realizing how pointless this call was since it's the next morning. But I still wanted to check on you."

I sighed in slight annoyance that she was still talking, meaning that I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. I used my elbows to get myself to sit up, pressing my palm into my eye.

"Thanks, I appreciate it. Do... you need me to come in?"
Please say no.

"Ah, no, it's a Saturday, I should be fine. Besides, you should try and rest."
Oh, excellent.

I mumbled an okay, bye-bye. into the phone before hanging up, letting gravity make my hand drop into my lap. That small call alone reminded me of yesterday, and I didn't know how to feel about it. But one thing that kept going through my head is that I needed to tell that guy thank you. I can't quite remember if I did, since the next time I looked up from what he gave me, he was gone. It's just two words... but I think I'll feel guilty until I am able to say them to him. Most people don't care, and that's probably what will happen if I do ever run into him again, but it wouldn't hurt to try for my own sanity.

I haven't had that bad of an anxiety day mixed with nausea in a while, and it's pretty torturous. But I was starting to feel better about half an hour after I took my medication, which wouldn't be possible without the cream of wheat he bought for me. Maybe that's why I feel so deeply about it, because anxiety has threatened my ability to do anything my entire life, and he ended it. He brought me... peace?

I shook my head; I can't keep thinking about it. I looked back at my pillow and frowned. If I were to try and sleep again, I don't think it'll go well. I have to be doing something, even if it's something small. My mind needs to be occupied with things that are actually important to me.

Hm, what's something low effort but it gets something done? I... don't know. I stood up from my bed, placing my phone screen down on my bedside table. I reached down to the middle drawer of my table, pulling out my journal. I hate that I have to do this sometimes... but it gives me an idea.

I opened the first page, where I wrote some things that my therapist suggested for me when I felt like this. It was mainly when I was already experiencing a panic attack, but who said that I can't do them whenever? Let's see, going for a walk, minimal cleaning, talking to someone, reading... god, I wish I could just go back to bed. I'll just take a shower to start, and maybe I'll go outside? If my social anxiety doesn't beat me out of it.