Things In My Brain

bad brain day

She steps onto the bus, thankful that the day is finally over, and sits in her usual seat at the very front. She puts her ear buds in and plays the same music as yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. Kids pile on after her, laughing as they sit in the seats behind her. Their obnoxious shouts become distant as she stares out of the window at the crying sky. She likes the rain. She doesnt quite know why.
The bus begins to move, and she shuffles in her seat before settling back into her daze. As she continues staring out of the window, her eyes have trouble focusing. She wipes them, as if they're camera lenses and brings her attention the phone in her lap instead. All she sees is her thumbs resting on a black screen. The music, that she forgot is even playing, catches her attention and she tries to focus on that. The bus stops moving and she watches everybody dance off, and is slowly filled with jealousy. She wishes she could be like them; full of carelessness and hopeful smiles. But she isn't like them. Her brain is heavy and unkind to her. She's filled with doubts and anxieties that overwhelm and terrify her.

She looks down and hopes nobody can see her crying.

The bus stops again. This time it's her turn to get off. But instead of floating off and talking to her friends about after school plans, she stumbles off, lightheaded and nauseous. The doors close behind her and the vehicle leaves her there, alone.
She makes her daily commute home from her bus stop, and walks into the front door. Her dogs greet her, as usual by jumping up on her legs. Instead of kneeling down and petting them like she usually does, she mutters a stern "down" before pushing them off of her.
"Hey, how was school?" Her mother asks, like she does everyday.
"Good." She replies instinctively, even though it's far from the truth. She shuffles in front of the kitchen door before deciding that she's not hungry, and instead goes up to her room. She drops her heavy backpack on the ground with a loud thud and removes her coat, also throwing it on the floor. She falls back and allows her bed to catch her before staring absentmindedly at her screen again. She swipes away every notification without reading it or even seeing what app it's from before tossing the phone beside her on the bed and closing her eyes that threaten to fill with tears. She feels like there's a weight on her chest that won't let her get up or enjoy anything that she used to. And God was she hungry but even the thought of food made her stomach turn. Her sister comes home from school and steps into her room without knocking, like she always does. The darkness in her head makes her bitter and she snaps at her sister telling to get out and leave her alone. Her sister is confused by this, but complies.

And she is alone again.

Left with only her heavy head to keep her company. It shouts things at her. Awful things. And she is to weak to fight it off. She can't make it go away. The unkind thoughts linger and she wonders if they'll ever leave.

She looks out of the window to see that it had gotten dark. She should probably start her homework. She should but she doesn't want to. Well, nobody wants to do homework, but she feels like she can't to anything right now. The thought of not completing her work fills her with anxiety and hushes the part of her brain pleading for a break.

She drags her backpack closer to her and stares into it trying to remember the school day. She pulls the heavy book out of her bag and opens it to the page number she had apparently written down in class, before flipping her notebook to an empty page.

She sits there and her heavy head isn't getting any lighter.

The weight of her geometry and English books contributes to the anvil hanging over her, daring to fall any minute.

The page stares back at her. She's reread the same sentence over and over again for hours now. Her lack of progress frustrates her.

Just get it done.
Stop procrastinating.

The ponderous half of her brain prevents her from getting anything done, while the anxiety driven half screams at her to finish it.

The page stares back at her. The words on it become blurry as salty tears sting her eyes. She tries to blink them away but fails and they silently roll down her cheeks.

She feels like an idiot
Why didn't she pay attention in class
She's being lazy

She stares into the textbook until it becomes static. Everything becomes static and she tries to remeber what it's like to feel anything but pain.

She's just overreacting right?
She's just a little sad
Just be happy

She wakes up to her blaring alarm but her tired eyes refuse to open. After hitting snooze for a third time she decides that it's time to get up. She wanders into the bathroom and stares at her reflection before getting dressed and doing her tangled brown mess of hair.

She doesn't want to go to school but still somehow finds herself walking to the bus stop. Once she arrives at the place of pure isolation, she goes through her day as best as she can.

And, action!

She lies to her teachers about a migrane preventing her from doing her work. They offer to let her go to the nurse or get a drink of water, but that's all. It's better than telling them she was depressed and on the verge of an emotional breakdown. They'd laugh in her face. They'd roll their eyes and tell her to get to work. Mental illness doesn't matter as far as school is concerned.

So she lies about headaches.