I wake up in the morning and I check my phone.
I come home from school and I check my phone.
I spend most of my afternoon checking my phone.
I bore myself half to death just from checking my phone.
I once spent three hours in a swivel chair, spinning until I was dizzy and nauseous. I checked my phone every fifteen minutes even though I knew what my lock screen would look like.
I once checked my phone between chapters of a book.
Most of the time, all I can think about is checking my phone.
I check my phone because I want someone to talk to. I want someone to talk to because I am lonely. I am lonely because I have nobody to talk to. My friends would disagree with that statement.
My thumbs are capable of typing a quick 'hello' my one of my friends. My anxiety has a bad habit of breaking my thumbs.
My brain will tell me that I am too annoying, that nobody wants to talk to me. The proof is right in front of me. I will message them first, when I feel brave enough.
My brain will say that I message them way too often. That all of them are sick of me. "Suffer in silence," it says to me.
I do not want to suffer. The last time I checked, nobody wants to suffer. Yet here I am convincing myself that it is my best option.
I wait for a call, a text, a minuscule acknowledgement of my existence, evidence that tells me I am not alone.
But I am alone. In a sea of individuals, I am alone. In a circle of my close friends, I feel alone.
I wish someone could understand. I wish for anybody to understand. If they knew how my mind tormented me, maybe they would see that I am not anti-social. They would see that I am not lazy. I am just afraid of rejection, I am afraid of being alone!
So I read my book.
I spin in my chair.
I check my phone.
