I Don’t Have The Answer

I’m sitting in my car outside of my local Starbucks.

I bought an ice tea to calm my nerves. Extra sugar light ice, just how I like it.

Yesterday I went out with a group of friends to eat at Applebee’s. It was nice. I tried my hardest to steer the conversation to anyone other than me. They are all doing well and they seem really happy.

One of them invited us to a party that’s going on this very second. I told them I might go. Of course that’s code for thank you but no. I don’t do parties.

I arrived home around midnight and woke up 4 hours later. Another friend texted me at midnight and I responded thinking she would be asleep. She replied almost immediately.

She wanted to talk about her boyfriend. Like always I’m everyone’s punching bag. Their safe place to vent. I’m always there for them. So I told her ok.

I met her at the gym and I told her I couldn’t go inside. She said it was lonely because it was 5AM. But still, having people stare at me while I work out just didn’t appeal to me. But suddenly I’m inside walking next to her on a treadmill.

She told me how her boyfriend got drunk with his friends and left her out to dry. This happens often, so it didn’t come out as a surprise. The thing is that she’s over it. She made a total mess in their room.

Later on in the day she called me crying saying that she got kicked out and her boyfriend told her he doesn’t want anything to do with her. I was there for her and listened to her.

The friend that I came out to has been really distant. But then again he doesn’t show his emotions. It’s like he’s a wall. No, I have better conversations with walls.

He snap chatted me , life is good.

I started crying. I started gasping for air. I felt as if I as inside a balloon. Digging my fingers through rubber trying to escape. The air felt so thin. Heat burned my ears and my hands dripped with sweat.

There was a point when I didn’t even have tears. It was just the sound of pathetic sobbing. Out loud I heard someone repeat, I’m tired, over and over. I shortly realized that it was me.

My brain is playing me. My brain is tricking me into feeling things I do not wish to feel. I ask myself, how do I stop this? But like always I never have the answer.

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Do They Know Me?

The concept of actually knowing some one makes my little brain flutter with emotions.

How do you know someone? Sure, you know there favorite color, favorite foods, the things that make them happy, and even the things that they hate. But these are just things that you know of them, not necessarily them, themselves.

I know a lot of people. Well better said, I know of a lot of people. I know many things about them. Through the course of years I’ve gotten to know more and more about them. They too have grown to know of me. But do they know me?

Do they know me? No. They know the me that I let them see. They know the person I want them to see. The person they want me to be. Why? To keep them? To make them happy? To not cause any confrontations? The answer to all of these may possibly be yes.

I would like someone, at least one person, to get to know me. Not of me. Not my favorite color, nor food, or anything that describes me. I want them to know me.

Make It All Stop

Anxiety. I have a lot of it.

No, it’s not doctor diagnosed, but I know I do. Let me tell you why.

About a month ago I went to the doctor to ask about my increasing head aches. I wasn’t sleeping and wasn’t eating. It was around the time I came out to my best friend. I know that was mainly the problem. Also the working two jobs. Once that passed I was ok.

But even before then I have always known there has been something else. I’ve never really paid attention to it but now it has come to a point where I need it to stop.

I know I have anxiety. I do not know of what kind.

Let me explain.

I hate parties. I hate social interactions. I don’t like talking to knew people. I don’t like being the center of attention. Why? I have no clue, but when this things do happen when I can’t avoid them at all costs, I get hot, sweaty, red in the face like a tomato, I don’t know what to do with my hands, and my heart pumps so hard I can feel it through my fingers.

I over think. I know I’ve said this before and I’ll repeat it again because it’s true. The emphasis can not be placed on it enough.

I think about everything. What do they think of me? Are they whispering about me? Why are they laughing? Should I double check my zipper? Why haven’t they texted back? Do they find me boring? Who are they texting? Why do they avoid me? Why are they like that? Why am I like this? Why can’t I stop?

Every little word of anybody I will over analyze. I will take that thought with me, tuck it in bed, and sleep with it till the sun comes back up and then I’ll carry it around until it weighs me down.

I worry about every little thing, even after it as been assured to me that everything is ok. I’m so into my thoughts sometimes I’m not focused and make clueless mistakes.

I feel like I’m in a box. On the inside I see life pass by and I knock on the glass walls screaming for help, crying out waving my hands back and forth. But when people look over, all they see is an old moldy decaying cardboard box.

I know I need help. Tomorrow I’m going to call a counselor at my clonic to see if he can help me. I’m tired of feeling this way. I’m tired of carrying what people say about me. So how do I make it all stop.