I lie.
Like, a lot.
It's mostly to myself.
I lie to others too.
Like my friends and family.
A couple of months ago, on a Thursday, I woke up with an unbearable pain in my chest. I tried to brush it off, but as soon as I went to school, I couldn't hide it from my friends and they made me see the school nurse. She couldn't do anything about it and by now, tears are streaming down my face from the pain. It felt like my organs were trying to devour each other in my rib cage like feral beasts. My mother picked me up and took me to the emergency room.
All of my life, I have always been ashamed of my body. I get compliments all of the time about my beauty, but I never believe them. See, I'm shaped like a pear and my hips are way bigger than my waist, which is very small. I hate it. I can never find jeans that fit me. Add in my tall height for girls my age and petite upper body, It's impossible for me to find clothes I'm comfortable in, especially swimming suits.
Anyways, In the emergency room of the hospital, I was forced to strip in front of God and everyone. I cried. I hate my body and the last thing I want is for others, especially strangers, to see it. I was forced onto a bed while the nurses stuck things to me and ran tests. I was close to having an IV stuck into my arm, they even tied the rubber band type thing around my upper arm and had the needle ready before deciding against it. I had X-rays of my chest.
In the end, my diagnosis was acid re-flux caused by anxiety. Up to that point, I never even thought about having anxiety. But, it all started to make sense then. I play softball (I had a double header that day that I had to miss) and every time I went up to bat, I would start sweating, my hand start to shake, my heart pounded in my ears, and my face turned bright red. When I got struck out, I would be on the verge of tears, not because I got out, but because I let everyone on my team down. Every time I went to a social gathering, I had the same symptoms. When someone accidentally runs into me, I start to hyperventilate.
Ever since my parents divorce and my father meeting his current girlfriend, they have been arguing over the slightest things, such as the brand of toilet paper to buy. I try to escape the constant yelling, but their room is above mine and sometime that isn't possible. In class, I heard that anxiety is often caused from parents arguing in front of their kids. But, I'm used to it now. I've been hearing it all of my life. It can't be affecting me now, can it? Not to mention my mother and all of my friends think that he emotionally abuses me.
Do I really have anxiety?
I didn't want to believe it.
I still don't.
I lie to everyone about my anxiety.
And it's only getting worse.
