Don't Judge By The Cover

Chapter 3

Justin
So after a small talk with mom I found out that obsessing over issues that I cannot control is not normal, and she diagnosed me with anxiety. She said that her patients have the same symptoms and asked if I would want to try therapy. I haven't given her an answer.

    Now don't get me wrong I am a firm believer that if you need help, get it. But for some reason I knew that I needed help, but I didn't want it. I've dealt with this for my whole life and didn't know it. Why should knowing about it make a difference? I never had anxiety attacks before. I came to the conclusion that if the attacks got worse, I would let my mom know so she could set me up with a therapist. Hopefully they don't, because I kinda like being able to breathe.

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    I headed out to the ball fields around 6:15. I was supposed to meet Jordan before the team met so he could throw and I could give him some pointers. I pulled into the lot of the field and hopped down from my truck. I saw Jordan's truck pull up while I was grabbing my gear from the bed.
   
"Hey man."
   
"Hey Akin. Ready to warm up?"
   
"Sure."

    We started walking in silence before he piped up again.

    "So, Keenan told me you had some sort of asthma attack at school? Are you gonna be able to play? Why didn't you tell the team? Why didn't I know?"
   
I sighed. "Look, you and Matt are my closest friends, ok? If I knew something was wrong I would have told you. But I didn't know anything was wrong."
   
"So... you do have asthma?"
   
"No, you idiot. I have some kind of anxiety disorder."
   
"Anxiety? Dude I get that all the time it's not something to stress over, really."
   
I stopped walking.

    "It's not anxiety. It's an anxiety disorder. Something I can't control. I have panic and anxiety attacks. I can't control how I process information. I ruminate on the littlest things. Man, it's not something I can just 'get over.'"
   
He cursed and shook his head
"Man, I'm sorry. I didn't realize. Is there anything I can do about it?"
   
"Umm, just understand that if I seem off or something to change the topic, cause something is probably upsetting me."
   
"Ok."

     Luckily we had just reached the field so Jordan was able to get out of his awkward state and head off to the mound. I already had my knee guards and chest protector on, so I squatted behind the plate.
   
"Ok. Just remember, straight into the glove. No gimmicks, no drops, no spins. Also, try not to  hit me in the groin?"
   
"Hah. I'll try not to, bro."

    He threw and I caught until we saw the rest of our team coming up to the field. He was in a zone.
   
"STRIKE!" yelled Matt, pumping his fist, "That was awesome, Jordan."
   
"Welp, he was in a zone," I tossed the ball back to him. "Maybe we should start warm-ups."

    Coach Wells walked onto the field and stood by me, arms crossed.
   
"So, A. Do you think he's doing better?"
   
"I don't think he'll hit six people, if that's what you mean. I think his pitching has gotten better. He's been hitting the glove right in the center."
   
"Sounds good." He patted me on the shoulder and walked off.
   
"Hey, Matt!" Matt perked up as he reached second base and looked over at me.
   
"Coming to ya!" I chucked the ball over Jordan's head, and Matt caught it in the air. He tossed it back to Jorge, and tipped his hat at me with a smile. Then he headed back to his position at center field. I'll never understand how he wears those sleeves all the time. I would be sweating swimming pools if it were me, but I guess I can't complain. He's one of the best players we have. He's an amazing hitter, an awesome center fielder, and he always has a smile on his face when he talks to you. He's an all around good guy, and he's humble about it. I don't think he actually knows that he's so amazing. Our team wouldn't be the same without him.

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Whap!

    "RUN! RUN! YES! GO, GO, GO!"

    And Matt just hit the tying run in! We just need to hold them back for the next inning in order to win the game. Jordan did great pitching. He didn't hit a single person and struck out 9 people.

    I pulled my helmet over my face and waddled out to the field. I squatted behind the plate and give Jordan 3 fingers for a fast ball. He wound up, and threw it. Straight into the mitt.

    "Perfect, Jordan! Do it again, just like that."

    He kept throwing perfect strikes over and over. I couldn't help but think we were gonna win.

    The first batter came up, and I nodded to Jordan to calm him down. He nodded back, and I shifted, holding my glove out. He wound up, I breathed in. He threw, I held my breath. The ball landed smack in my glove. And I waited...

    "STRIKE!"

    I don't think I've ever smiled so big. I tossed the ball back, yelling encouragement to Jordan. He wound up, and threw again.

    "STRIKE!"

    I threw the ball back, grinning like an idiot.
    We're gonna win. We're gonna win!
    He wound up, the winning strike in his left hand. Just one more throw... He threw...

    WHAP!

    No, no, no.

     I stood up, and pulled my helmet off, holding it by my side. I watched the small ball fly through the air.

    Straight.

    Towards.

    Matt.