The act of deceiving yourself

Another anxiety attack added to the list

Monday

"Mom, I'm leaving!" I yelled and walked out the door. I went to my bike and unlocked it. I felt my hands get sweaty and I sighed. I had dealt with this for a few years now. I was used to it, but I still felt like dying every minute of school.

The front door opened behind me and I looked back. It was my mom. She was smiling at me while tightening her robe.

"Just wanted to say bye, have a nice day, honey," she smiled at me. Why were we playing this game? We both knew my day was going to suck. But my mom being my mom, she wouldn't let the reality be known, she wanted to hide behind a façade. It was fine, that way I didn't have to talk about my feelings with her.

I had been suffering from anxiety for a while. My anxiety was a little different, I would feel bad when I walked in public, but I could do it. At school, it was a different story. I couldn't talk to anybody, I couldn't present something in front of the class and I would die when my teachers picked me to speak. I had a really tough time making connections and bonds with people. I never really involved myself in anything or anyone. I got skittish by the thought.

"Bye, mom," I smiled back and she went inside again. My dad had probably already left for work but I didn't really mind, I wasn't really close with any of my parents. I took my bike and pulled it out to the street. I got on it and started to bike my way to school. I didn't drive too fast, though since the thought of sweating in front of anyone killed me.

I biked past shops and beaches. Cali was always nice, but especially today. I breathed in a breath of air and smiled. Fresh air and nature were a calming source for me. Small, closed off, air-conditioned rooms filled with judgmental people not so much. Nausea grew and I felt my usual panicking resurface. This always happened on my way to school.

When I reached my school I locked my bike and walked to the corner of the building. It was cast in shadow and calmed me down a little before I would enter the hellhole people called the school. I fucking hated school. There was nothing for me there. I hated the people, the teachers and I always felt like shit being there. My breath controlled itself again after being out of breath from the bike and I swallowed hard. I shook my hands trying to make them less clammy as if it would work, but I had faith. It didn't work, though. Sweat hands were a constant in my life, just like taxes.

I pulled open the large glass door and slipped inside. I felt everyone's eyes on me. They probably weren't, but I felt them I took a large breath and walked to my locker. Fortunately, it was close to the exit. That way, I could run out if I got an anxiety attack. I grabbed my books and went to my first class, history.

My teacher, Ms. Collins, was already there. I was the only student that had arrived, which sucked. The next few people who came to class would defiantly notice me. Why did I drive so early for school? I didn't need to be here 20 minutes before school even started. Of course, I knew why, because the anxiety that came with being late was way worse than being too early.

A group of three girls entered the room. Two of them looked at me but they didn't say anything. I didn't expect them too, but I still felt weird. I liked to great people, but only if they said hey first. I would never say it first. Because I was so shy and full of anxiety, many people assumed me to be arrogant or bitchy. I really wasn't, I just hated to talk to people. I didn't really care, though, I didn't need their approval. Their biggest concern in life was who would take them to prom or if they got a new car for their birthday. I just wasn't like that.

The next group of people who entered was a few of the nerds. Nobody talked to them either, but that was for different reasons. Next up was some of the stoner guys. Those I didn't even want to talk too.