i walked out of the cafeteria with phil at the sound of the bell. my next class was maths. not too bad, i guess.
i didn't sit next to anyone. i just doodled in my book and occasionally did work, still managing, however, to achieve top marks.
no one knows how i do it. not even me.
i looked down at the blue scribble on my page, realising i could make it something more.
something special.
i continued adding lines that curved and whirled around the already present drawing. it started to look- unique.
the masterpiece i've created out of lines and squiggles was, well, special.
it really was.
pj looked over at me and smiled.
"you're coming to my house today okay" he looked me dead in the eye.
"i guess i don't really have a choice in this, don't i?" i laughed.
"nope, i also need to, tell you something" he gulped, looking back at his work. ,y body shuddered.
what did he want to tell me?
was he okay?
i tired to push all the bad things that could be possible aside.
that's what my psychiatrist told me to do.
he told me in order to stop my anxiety, i needed to see the good in things instead of the bad, which i completely agree with.
it just, isn't that easy, sometimes.
my anxiety is really bad. i get anxious over, well, everything.
i hear someone laugh and i think they're laughing at me.
i say the wrong word and i instantly go quiet, worried people are judging me.
it's something i've been clinically diagnosed with.
no ones really sure what started all of my anxiety. it could've been, anything really.
the bullying in year 7.
the slightly abusive uncle when i was 9.
who knows?
all i know is it's basically up to me to fix my problems.
and god, i'm trying so fucking hard.
💕
