Me and Older Men : Janie

Eighteen

I am a woman with a plan and then a backup plan. I'm talking about whenever I pack I always carry a second toiletry bag with me and whatever happened from the moment I woke up this morning to the non-stopping incoming calls from a certain someone who suddenly decided I existed for the last few days. The stability I had been faking, all that went away fast, very very fast.

At least the weather was nice out but that did nothing to calm my nerves, chilly but at least I didn't have to face the winter winds until I landed. I was supposed to hop on a plane towards him, well not to him exactly but to his vicinity. All added the stress was enough to play tricks with my body, messing up my cycle delaying until it was boarding time.

So here I am sitting on 22B with wads of toilet paper between my legs and horrible cramps. Altitude or cabin pressure or whatever must have added more to it because queasiness took over, also cold shivers and the desire to take my own life took joined the party.

No matter how much I went through the contents in my bag it was like the small toiletry pouch with my meds wasn't there, either I left in my room back at my parent's house or is under my very feet, inside my suitcase.

How is that instead of your body being on your side, that even though the brain is the most powerful part of your body you were still unable to control all those signals that made you feel like you were being stabbed with chilled blades all over your pelvis. Drugs were the only thing, also a soft bed and a hot blanket.

Closing my eyes didn't work.

Breathing slow cycles didn't work.

Thinking positive thoughts. It didn't work.

For the next two hours, I sat stiffly in my middle seat clawing my legs and running my clam palms up and down my legs, screaming in the inside and praying for time to go faster. I refused the small snacks, the water, and when the final descent was announced I let out a small whimper of gratitude.

If sitting down for more than two hours while feeling like your entrails were being slowly killing you then walking couldn't even compare. I didn't make it to baggage claim, there was no way. I stumbled towards the bathroom and locked myself inside. The cold surface of the ceramic, the cold blast of the air conditioner for a second made me feel good and thank the heaves that instead of finding a mess, there was barely anything there, a little stain which made it all worse, I knew that once the gate opened the rage could be no longer contained.

Mother Nature hates me, I mumbled as I pulled my pants back on and pressed my hands onto my lower belly.

Yep, I was going to have a bad time getting myself into my dorm, pulling my bag all across the campus lawn but all I could think of was how good it felt to be leaning on to the bathroom stall wall, this exact position had freed me a little from the piercing pain and I no longer shivered.

"Thank you," I said in a low whisper. "Please a few more minutes. That's all I ask." The activity outside the stall was minimal. A flush, water, and the air dryer, it was very soothing, and then it was back. Stronger.

It came back with a friend, that made me kneel and hold into dear life as my breakfast filled the bowl. The retching didn't seem to stop, the tears, and then worried voices. I no longer cared, I was feeling like death had finally come for me. I need help, I do. And while I laid on the cool tile full of germs I unlocked my phone, disabled airplane mode and then everything went dark.

The cold tile floor stuck to the side of my face while someone called my name. Only God knows the time I had been curled around the toiled. I had been moved.