A Day with Anxiety

Bathroom Cell

Finally back to my desk, I take a deep breath. I realize i'm still behind and have made no progress with my work. I quickly sort through some more papers as I begin to itch. Sort through ten pages, neck scratch. Sort through five pages, face scratch. Sort through another five pages, leg scratch. Every few pages now i'm scratching a part of my body with so much intensity I fell I might take my skin right off.

I continue to sort quickly through the papers sitting on my desk when "ba-dum". Another big stack of papers are dropped off on my desk. My chest tightens up. I try taking deep breaths and choke. I grab my chest and lean to the side, cautious to not draw attention to myself. I stand, grab my keys and walk swiftly out the door. With my head hung down I quickly walk through the hall, not checking hallways and doors this time.

As I reach the bathroom I begin to feel as if my clothes are suffocating me. I grab my shirt and pull down on it as I struggle to get the key into the key hole. I fling the door wide open and sprint to the very last stall. As I begin to pull my clothes off, I start to take deep breaths and become dizzy.

"Bam!" The bathroom door flings open. I sit on the toilet and pull my legs up to my chest as the person shuffles to the stall besides me. I cup my hand over my mouth to quiet my frantic panting. Tears begin to stream down my face as I find myself looking at my half nude body and notice all the marks from my nails that now cover my body. With my skin displaying soft red marks on it my mind begins to fade again.

Self harm, it's a permanent solution to a temporary thing. A blade, razor blade, running across my wrist, down my legs, across my chest, it's the ultimate high for ones who feel nothing. The blood drips, drips, drips, and with each little drop a little piece of who you are slowly fades away. Some times I wonder about just ending it. A deep enough cut, an over dose on the medications the doctors have me on, maybe even hanging.

"Bam!" The bathroom flings open again as my bathroom stall neighbor exits the bathroom. I snap back to reality. I pull my shirt back on and bring my pants back up. I walk to the bathroom sink and with tears rolling down my face, I ponder on the idea of suicide. Anything to get out of this body. I hear the sound of keys out side the bathroom door and quickly wipe my face and begin washing my hands until the bathroom visitor has gone into a stall.

AsI walk back to my office, once again not checking the hallways and doors, Ibegin to ponder more and more on the idea of suicide. I am back and forthweighing the pros and cons of doing this one simple thing. One simple thingthat will effect everyone around me, myself included, my husband, my parents,my siblings, my nephews and nieces, wait, my nephews and nieces. 

My two littlewild child boys that call me Auntie and my two beautiful princesses that thinkthe world of me. I couldn't leave them behind! They're all old enough now toremember me. How would that effect them when they grow up and remember back towhen they had a beloved family member explode inside her self and end her ownlife? What if they come across a news article about my suicide when they getolder and down and decide to follow in my footsteps?