For everyone else, this last year of high school is a step they need to go through to get to the brighter beyond. But for me, with every passing day, the anxiety grows. When I got sick in 9th grade, I thought I would be better by 10th. When I wasn’t, I prayed it would be gone by 11th. When it wasn’t, I closed my eyes and pretended that there just wasn’t an option of me not being better by the time I graduate.
But it’s getting closer and closer, and I’m staying the same and the same. Trapped in the same constraints, suffering from the pain and loneliness, and quivering with anxiety. Because when I imagine my future, I am healthy. When I think about choosing my next path, I am healthy. When I think about colleges, dating, careers… I am healthy. But I am not healthy. So what’s going to happen?
Up until now, I haven’t let myself seriously consider what will happen if I don’t get better by the end of 12th grade. But the last few days, and today especially, I can see it crystal clear. My friends will move on. They’ll still love me, still support, still care for me (because they’re awesome), but by the nature of things, they will move on. They’ll be living farther away from me, be very busy, and probably be struggling with adjusting to their new environment. Being the kind of friend that I am, I’ll try to be supportive, listen to them and be empathic to their struggles. But inside I’ll be thinking, damn, I wish I had your issues.
I’ll be feeling lonely, because I’ll be seeing them very little. Conversations will probably take place over the phone or via text. Weekends they’ll probably want me time, which is legitimate, they’ll be tired from a long hard week, and anyway, there’s not much I can do anyway. I get tired, you see. I’ll try my hardest not to become a burden to them.
But I’ll feel lonely. And they’ll move on.
So how will I fill my time?
I can come up with a few things to do, my teachers at school are trying to help me make plans. It just sucks, because they aren’t the plans I want to make.
I can picture myself healthy so easily. How much I would bloom and love life. It’s not like I think life would be perfect, I know I would still have problems, but I would just feel so free. This happiness, that I have inside that is beaten back every day as I feel pain and every night as it keeps me from sleeping, I would finally be able to call it my own.
I need to find a way to insure that even if I’m not better I won’t let myself go, because that would be so easy. I can feel the temptation already. Nobody else knows how hard it is for me, how much goes into just putting a smile on my face, into getting out of bed in the morning. I’m tempted to not get out of bed. It would just be so much easier. Life would hurt so much less. I wouldn’t be looking at everything I can’t do everywhere I turn.
Isn’t that just really what I want? For it to hurt less? It hurts so much. I talk about the emotional part of it all the time, but physically it’s just too much already. How much longer am I supposed to be able to withstand this attack? How long is it going to be until something in my body just fails? How long is it going to be until my inner strength just runs out? How many more tears do I need to shed in order to get through a day? How many more times do I need to sob and ask god what I ever did to deserve this until I can get some respite? HOW MUCH MORE DO I NEED TO SUFFER?
I can’t take much more. Every day this smile feels a little bit faker. Every day this laugh feels a little bit more forced. Every day this will power gets chipped at a little bit more. Every day my eyes grow heavier. Every day I crave affection, support and reassurance more, but the level I receive remains the same. Every day my breathing becomes more labored. Every day I just try to fill the void. Every day the doubt grows infinitely. Is this my destiny?
Give me love like never before, cause lately I’ve been craving more, and it’s been a while but I still feel the same. –Give Me Love, Ed Sheeran