I tried to go to a party tonight at Jared’s house. I couldn’t do it. At first I couldn’t leave the house, my stomach was knotted tight and I was breathing in little shallow gasps, I didn’t want to leave the safety of the bathroom. Finally, somehow, I got myself out the door and into my car, legs so wobbly I could barely walk. Talk about panic every second. I was shaking, hard, and I could barely turn the key in the ignition. Then I was driving and the tears started again, ruining my makeup. Uncontrollable. Sobs, shaking, queasy stomach, fear of throwing up or worse, heart throbbing a mile a minute. Thoughts of self pity, self hatred all mixed up together. My body is out of my control. It does what it wants, when it wants and it scares me.
I almost turned back 100 times on the drive to his house. Then once I got there I couldn’t leave the car. My fear of the unknown, my fear of embarrassment and irrational thoughts were mind blowing. I’m one sick motherfucker in more ways than one. I kept trying to get out of the car, but my legs were so weak, the shaking so bad, my stomach clenched and aching, that I had to sit back down. Suddenly my car was the safety, his apartment was hell. I couldn’t go inside.
Do you know what I did? I’ve finally fallen over the edge of sanity. The fear finally has control because I drove home. I left. I turned on Pink Floyd and was asked “Is there anybody out there?” No. No one is out there because I am all alone with the monster. My disease is in control of my mind now. I want to die. I can’t live this way. I can’t leave the house. I’m way past normal now. And sometimes I wonder who I would be if I didn’t have this goddamn fucking curse hanging over me. But I can’t even imagine it. I can’t imagine my life not tinged with fear. I’m finally lost. I went up to my room and I cried so much that I simply can’t cry anymore. My eyes are dry now, red and parched and I know the truth, this can’t go on. I need help. I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to admit this to anyone. If only I can get through the last few weeks of school then maybe I’ll do something about it. Maybe I’ll finally admit that this is too much for me to handle alone. I hate to admit it though. I hate to admit personal failure. What other option do I have?