Heartache

CHAPTER ONE

Friday, 1st October 2021 

Dear Whoever,

I don't know who might stumble upon this. It is a worthless piece of fiction for anybody who reads it but what it contains is a story I may never tell a living soul by myself. Words have incredible power, being able to express them to an audience is what gives one that power. I, on the other hand, can't do that because of the simple yet complicated thing called anxiety.

Anxiety is normal for most people until there is a person who has an anxiety disorder coupled with depression. I presented early symptoms of anxiety when I was just five years old. I couldn't hold a basic conversation with strangers like telling my name and age or what grade I was in, I would not come out of my room if we had strangers over. We used to live in the city but my parents decided to move to the suburbs hoping that I'd get better if there was a less crowded neighborhood. Everyone thought I was just a shy kid until they saw my episodes. I was four when I first felt an anxiety attack, we were at my cousin's house for her birthday and there were more than twenty people in a small house. The kids were told to play in the backyard, I sat alone in the corner on a hedge. Every time someone called for me I got scared, then it grew to a point where I couldn't breathe. I ran to my mother who was very difficult to spot in my tiny figure, when she did notice a sobbing breathless child in the middle of a crowded adult space she knew something was very wrong. So, she picked me up and went outside, thankfully we were alone. It took an hour for my breathing to be normal, we left early for home. Nobody thought much of it and it was overlooked until we had a party at our house for my birthday. I was being called to the center to cut the cake, a center where a lot of people would surround me. I did reach the middle but the second they started singing the birthday song was my breaking point, I got breathless but no one noticed so I had no better option but to scream, scream like my life depended on it and it really did. That is the day, they figured that whatever was happening with me wasn't simply because of my shyness so they booked a child psychiatrist who gave direction to my anxiety. I was initially diagnosed with a social anxiety disorder because of the events that led to the psychiatrist which they later discovered to be suffering from generalized anxiety disorder with mild agoraphobia. 

Thirteen years later, I am still a person suffering through the same disorder-which now includes depression too. I was homeschooled throughout my school years, it is not like they did not try to send me to school like a normal kid, but the problem was that every time they did the countless therapy sessions would go down the drain and I'd be back to square one. So, they stopped trying, even my therapist would be puzzled as to why this was happening. It could probably be the lack of exposure or the availability of one. 

Therapy wasn't just an issue for me, my parents had it rough ever since I was diagnosed. I was a middle child that needed extra attention, my sister Katherine is five years older who has been my only friend throughout my eighteen years of existence. On the other hand, my brother Connor is three years younger than me but is only an acquaintance. I guess beggars really can't be choosers, my hangouts are always limited to the three of us catching a two a.m. movie on a school night, a relatively empty cafe or a restaurant, going to a library at odd hours so not many people would be present or just sitting in the living room together. This is on good days, the other days include homeschool because my parents think I'll be able to do something with my life, food for staying alive, and reading books on the window sill in my room. 

I had never interacted with a stranger on my own account and if I was forced to exchange pleasantries, I'd try to complete that in less than ten seconds. But today for the first time I did interact with someone although it wasn't an active interaction where people exchange a conversation. Since my brother had skipped school and my sister was back in town we went to the library, the specialty of this library was it was run by my sister's friend who knew about my situation so she would affirm when it was safe to be there. I was going through one of my favorites when I found a handwritten quote on the first page 'The distinction between surviving and living is derived by our happiness'. It was the simplest words I had ever read, anyone could wonder that but to me, that quote was a life-changing sentence. The way I have lived my life until now is just surviving but it isn't a life that lacks happiness, there were times I was content with it. And I got curious which I thought was impossible for me. 

This was new to me, the feeling of being curious and actually questioning something or someone. In order to avoid interactions, I had never let myself be curious or debate an opinion, I just went with it to end whatever one thought and spoke. But today, I really wanted to know why this person thought that way so I replied 'How would you know you are happy? How would you ever be aware what level of happiness distinguishes between the two?'. By the time I was done, Connor and Kat were staring at the note.

"Umm...could you do me a favor?" I asked in a timid voice, it made me anxious how they just crowded me so they backed up a little knowing my actions perfectly well.

"Yeah, sure. What is it?" Kat replied.

"C-can you give this to Kylie and um.. ask her to give this to the person who dropped the book last?" She simply nodded and went to her with the book in hand and came back after exchanging a few words.

"So it belongs to one of the regulars who donated it today itself. But the book doesn't belong to the girl who gave it but her brother who probably scribbled into that note so I asked her to just exchange the note. Does that work for you?" For whatever reason, I was incredibly flustered so I went along with what she did.

On the way back, they didn't ask anything and we drove in silence. It was new for me too. The note was stupid, what I asked was also stupid was the first thought when we came out. I couldn't ask her to take it back because it wasn't my note to scribble on and the fear of the look kylie could give me was already intimidating. I knew half of what I thought was simply my anxiety overpowering things I contemplated but I never could help it before to do now anyway.

"Hello, honey! How was your day?" Was the first thing my mom uttered as we got back. At this point, she only talked to me through that sentence, my siblings never are cared to be questioned because she knows that they'd actively share anything which apparently wasn't the case for me. She was a sweet redhead lady who exhibited elegance at its finest. She had gone through a lot to look after me, to try to make me 'normal' again. But it was extremely different for her to sympathize much less empathize with my situation. 

"It was okay." 

I went back upstairs feeling tingly, I was freaking out about what I had done. I just questioned someone's random yet personal thoughts, I couldn't help but think that I had invaded someone's privacy and how it would feel if it happened to me. Before I could know what was happening, my head became more and more crowded with unnecessary thoughts, filled with things that weren't relevant to anybody. I remembered that therapy involved a load of calming down and breathing exercises which didn't exactly come to mind but how hard can breathing be, right? It really was becoming harder by the day. After a good half hour of intense deep breathing exercises, I had finally become decent again. That's when I thought to apply my therapist's advice practically and started writing to calm down and collect my thoughts in a proper manner. 

Until my sister barged inside like an imbecile and just sat on my bed. These people really need to understand that getting startled and freaking out comes naturally to me and that they should stop banging and barging.

"So you ready to talk about the whole note thing?" Patience doesn't run in this family at all.

"I don't think I want to." I looked down and stared at words I had scribbled mere minutes ago.

"You know I'm a good listener when you talk." I chuckled, she really wasn't. She tried but some people aren't that way and I understood it. I did rely on her for a lot of things but sharing my thoughts and feelings wasn't one of them, it wasn't for anyone actually.

"Yeah, thanks anyway." I smiled as she walked to the door but took a sudden turn and looked straight at me as if realizing something.

"And Lydia, I forgot to tell you before. The note guy in the library, his name is Hart."