How to Deal with Anxiety ☹ a.f.i. • a.u.

8: "Inhale. Exhale."

I knew today was going to be fucking hard before the sun had even thought about rising.

The sky was still the color of slate, the streets still damp, the light still absent from my day when I cracked my tired eyes open, which required much more effort than it should have. I instinctively turned on my side to look for her, but I was only rewarded by seeing my mom's cat, Bonnie.

"Get off." I huff, shooing her off of my bed sheets, earning a fierce hiss in return.

"Fuck you too, dumb cat." I roll my eyes, groaning as I sit up, instantly feeling so much colder when my blankets fall off my bare chest.

"I hope Kat slept better than I did." I mumble to myself, grabbing a towel and drowsily making my way to the bathroom, sighing when I see the dark circles under my eyes, seemingly mocking me: 'you can't fucking function without her.'

Kat

I may not have slept peacefully, in any sense, but that didn't mean I was tired.

No, I'm determined to make this day work out just they way I want it to. I won't let it cripple me today. I won't cry today. I will be strong today. I will talk to him today.

No I won't. My lips forget to move when he's in any proximity to me.

No, I will, and I need the perfect outfit in order to boost the little confidence I posses. Somehow my choice clothes entrap my mood and enhance my self esteem.

My closet seems farther away than normal. I take a slow deep breath and look around my room for a moment in order to regain my focus.

My fingers push unwanted clothes to the side as my furrowed eyes look for exactly what garments I want.

Aha. A simple graphic t-shirt and a pair of overalls. The white shirt will make my deathly white skin appear slightly darker. Perhaps a necklace with this would make every thing perfect. The necklace Ashton gave me is perfect.

Showered, fed, and dressed, I look up myself in the mirror. I look at my outfit. I look at my hair. I look at my body.

Why do I even try?

No, not today. I'm not making myself feel like this today. Today is the day I win over my anxious tendencies.

I can't beat anything without Ashton.

Ashton.

I feel my breath hitch, realizing I didn't text him last night when I got home, which I've promised him that I always will do.

I swallow hard, grabbing my phone from my dresser and finding my conversation with him. Teeth meet lip as I read over the ones he sent me last night.

"You alright?"

"I bet you just fell asleep. I love you, sleep well."

Oh, please don't be mad, Ashton. What if he's mad? He's probably mad.

My fingers are shaking just a little as I send an apologetic reply.

"I'm so sorry! Fell asleep, and my mom was driving me crazy lol."

I close my eyes, taking a few deep breaths in order to even out my rapidly changing pattern of breathing.

Inhale.

He wouldn't be mad.

Exhale.