stoical - l.h.

six

❀❀

I open my eyes on Monday morning and the first thing I feel is a sore throat. I didn't sleep the whole night, except for a few precious minutes here and there, and I can't take the tossing and turning anymore at a point. I sit up for good and grab my phone to check the time, seeing that it is about twenty minutes to six, which is the time my alarm is supposed to go off. I roll my eyes and hate so many things in the moment, including myself and the fact that I have to get up at six in the first place. I'd rather be sleeping, I think, although I don't even know how successful it would be if I tried again.

On Saturday, I slept terribly, but at least I got more of a rest than I did this past night. I couldn't stop thinking about going to school the next day, which resulted in me tossing, turning, and groaning about it for hours and hours. I don't know why my throat is sore, or why my head is pounding, though I'm sure it probably has something to do with the lack of sleep, the constant nightmares, the incessant tics. I doubt attempting to sleep tonight will be any different. I also doubt today will be any better than the shitty weekend. Actually, I have zero doubt that going to school will make this entire experience ten times worse than it already is.

For almost eight hours of my day, I'll be constantly surrounded by people. It doesn't matter who they are, the fact of the matter is that I'll be near them the whole time. There is something so overwhelming to me about that situation. No way to escape, no way to be alone. I suppose it is equally as unsettling as being alone right now, so I really can't win. The existential dread fills me up entirely, and I loathe the thought of leaving this bed. Clearly, I won't be getting any sleep, but leaving my spot means heading off into a new, foreign building to meet tons of people who I just don't want to meet. Teachers, students, staff. Ugh.

Instead of getting up right away, I flop back down against the pillows once again and focus on the ceiling. My eyes burn from lack of sleep, but I'm focused. The tiredness hasn't yet caught up with me that much. I know I'm capable of feeling much more tired than I do right now. I sigh and try to let the air take out the negative thoughts it my mind. It doesn't work, and I resent anybody that says it does. Breathing out doesn't get rid of anything bad inside of you, even if you imagine the air as a color, or even as the actual bad thoughts leaving. It's all bullshit. Nothing is able to help me.

I stay like this for a while. I let the anxiety swirl around in my stomach and I don't do anything to stop it. Allowing my thoughts to spiral out of control, I feel my palms beginning to sweat. Without controlling my mind at all, it can get very dark, very scary. It gets to the point where I have to sit up and breathe normally, without trying to get negative thoughts outside of me. I feel like I can't catch my breath, and like I have to open my mouth to get remotely enough air into my lungs.

That's it, I say to myself, and stand up for the day. Sure, I'll be sitting in school, but standing up from the bed is an admittance of willingness to get going with the day.

With a sigh, I walk to the door and open it, planning on heading into the bathroom to start my basic morning routine. Of course, I have no idea when the Hoods wake up, or what their schedules look like, so this simple action makes me more anxious than it should. I could quite possibly accidentally wake someone up, making someone very angry. I could be doing everything wrong to the point where I could embarrass myself.

What could you be doing wrong? I ask myself. All you did was open the bedroom door.

You're doing everything wrong, the voice responds. You'll probably get yelled at just for leaving the room. That's going to put you in quite the awkward situation, which I know you love so much. Awkward situations, being yelled at.