I love you but please don’t take me clubbing again.
A silverfish through pages greased by sweat
and dirty fingers
lingering nowhere too long
the throng milling and gyrating
hydrating on beer that tastes and smells
like piss
bliss carved on every face and every fat
girl is a succubus transformed by holy
liquor
darting in and out so no one kicks her
as limbs flash and bodies bounce
on the dance floor
slips through the group to find shore
called a whore for escaping groping hands
can't stand to see where they may go
the world slow and measured in heartbeats
music repeats
noise to drown out more noise
poised on the edges and trying to breathe
above the chanting
incanting
summoning lust and thrusting hips in arcane
jubilee
a spree of tongues wagging
clothes sagging
falling to the ground in dark corners for a
dose of debauchery
flashing by in colors and lights and too much
sound
pounding in her head
scattering thought
casting out reason
cleaving off the pieces of precious personal
space until not a trace
is left behind
a stranger grinds off a leg like a dog violating
an angular pillow
his breath full of vomit as she swallows bile
gives a smile
all teeth
false guile to cover goosebumps and a chill
there's no thrill
drowning in the sea
in spittle as foam over waves of drunken joy
dicks ahoy through skinny jeans
it's not the fucking morals
not by judgement nor condescension
but the tension in her shoulders
at each brush
a rush of panic at each manic motion
emotion: terrified
magnified by staring eyes
tries to fit and feel the high
but it's not the right wavelength
doesn't have the strength to get up there
wherever they've ascended or descended
not up to par
just as they are
a rabbit in need of escape
from sleek and lovely foxes
leaping outside boxes she's found she
desperately needs
speeds away
can't stay in the color and the light
a silverfish through pages greased by sweat
stuck in the wrong novel
This is how it is for me at least… everyone’s anxiety is different
It makes your skin feel like cage. You're stuck in it, but there's no means of escaping. There's no calm inside you. There's always a feeling of pent up emotions right in your sternum.
You want to just escape your body because you can't stand it anymore. You want to rip your skin apart and burst from the gouges.
Something's wrong all the time, but you can't tell what it is. But it's always there- that thought.
Everything feels extreme. Taking out the trash feels like life or death and doing the dishes is unbearable. You're always stuck with the feeling and thoughts of impending doom.
Worst of all, you feel limited.
from the outside looking in
Sonia can't move.
She breathes so deep and so fast I fully expect her head will explode
She shakes and buries her head in her hands
Tears roll down her face but she is silent
Heaving breaths, no words
Silently dying, I fear
When words finally escape her trembling mouth they shake harder than her hands
She scream-whispers
"I
can't
breathe"
I think she's dying. She must be dying.
Laura lashes out
Screaming expletives at everyone
Everything
LEAVE ME ALONE
But alone is a gift she abuses
With razors and glass shards
Leaving her alone is a death sentence
She runs outside into sunshine
Rays of gold glisten on her hair
But she does not feel the warmth of God
Telling her there's nothing to fear in sunshine;
She feels golden fire burning her skin
She is exposed to the elements
She is a sinner in the spotlight
And she breaks right in front of us,
Screaming in a pain we know is only in her head
We can't help her.
I can't help her.
And that is the worst pain of all.
this is long and important.
11.48 pm. age 10. day unknown.
fear swoops up and engulfs me, suddenly a solid and tangible thing that slams my body up and out of bed, head pounding like a wave crashing and i'm drowning and help...
"m-mom..."
i had traveled through the whole dark house for this. for her to be asleep.
"mom--"
"what?? oh..."
"something's wrong. i can't sleep. something...something, i mean, it's...i'm freaking out and i wanna cry for no reason."
"it's okay sweetie, you're okay. i'll take you back to bed."
we walk silently through the house that doesn't seem so dark anymore. thank god she's so forgiving. other parents, no way. like my dad. he would never help me like that. the best he can do is stay out of it, and i want to keep it that way.
- - - -
12.53 pm. age 14. market day.
"Hey wait--"
I cut myself off as my friends walk ahead of me. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I decide it's useless to care. Walk tall, head up. Pretend you're fine.
"Hey," I say to my closest friend. Whatever. I'm a ghost.
Try again.
"I'm going to a concert with my cousin in October and--"
"Ooo, which one?"
"Twenty one pilots."
"Ahhh! You know I'm going to Fall Out Boy also."
"Really?"
"Yeah, with my friend from school."
"Oh. When?"
"Next month."
Whatever. It's not like I took her to a concert last year and she didn't thank me, or anything.
I don't say that, though.
I want to, but I don't. I'm shutting up, that number one rule in the book I read.
Why am I such a nerd.
We approach a large, bustling group of EW. People I know. Well, I know them, but of course they don't know I exist.
Count off.
The quarterback-- eye roll.
Nasty girl-- yuck, no.
Her ex (actually, who knows what they're doing?)-- barf. I'll be expected to like him in high school.
The Californian-- oh. I didn't know he was here. But, overrated.
Basic crowd of worshipping friends-- stab me with a spork.
And the funny thing is?
Each one of my own friends goes off talking to one of them, leaving me a few feet away with a look of pure fear and disgust on my face.
Too bad no one is talking to me.
Because I'm not talking to any of them.
- - - -
4:16 pm. age 14. market day.
"EXTERMINATE. EXTERMINATE."
"There's the ringtone," my newest friend in a Dalek shirt says, pulling out his iPhone. My other newest friend smiles. In the last few hours I've discovered their love for Doctor Who, my love for the two of them, and our ability as a group to eat a pound of curly fries.
"How do you say it? Is it 'daahh-leks,' or 'da-lix?' Because I think 10 says it the first way and 11 says it the second way, but I don't know.."
For a supposedly popular girl, she's quite active in the fandom. And it's not like I didn't know either of them before. It's just now that we're all being introduced, now that the glue is gone. The glue, meaning the group of people we all were connected by. But now we're connected by ourselves. I look up at the sky.
I think they fixed me.
Would he like this
Do it over because you fucked up but even when you do it over its still fucked up because you can't fix it because you're you.
Trying over..
Because I must be
Better
Stronger
Wiser
Different
Not me
Because who would want to be around someone like you with the way you
Explosive
My mind races
But you won't give up because then you fail
But when you try you fail to
But
You're going to continue to try with that ounce of faith that you might succeed
But why do you think like that
And look like that
And quit thinking
But you need to be doing more because you're doing nothing it's not enough
Never enough so
Get up you fuck up
You'll make it
Eventually
Right?
Show Me What Normal Is So I Can Fake It
Give me a guide to follow
Something standered and common
The thing everybody was born with.
Except for me.
The thing I'm missing is tangible
I know what it should feel like
to be able to not feel like puking all the time.
I know it's normal to not cry all the time,
To be able to sleep through the night,
And only sweat when with fever,
And to only shake when cold.
I know that I'm supposed to
Be able to calm down.
Instead I'm always on the edge waiting
For a thoughtless gesture or word
To blow me over
Crash on the the rocks below
And lie still.
Can You Repeat? Wait, What Is Anxiety?
Anxiety is
One thing I don't experience
Maybe once or twice in a lifetime will it appear
Anxiety is
Something I pretend to feel
I know how to do it from books
The cliche clutching of hands, nervous ticks, or sweating
Anxiety is
Nothing to me
Performances and lectures and singing in public?
Not anxiety and never anxiety
Anxiety
Is something that doesn't exist for me
And may never will
Anxious Anxiety
I crack my knuckles.
I bite my nails.
I stare into space.
I get headaches.
I throw up.
I black out.
I can't think straight.
I have racing thoughts.
I stutter.
I flinch.
I don't remember a thing.
I act quiet.
I try to disappear.
I wish I was someone else.
I pull at my hair.
I use muscle memory.
I tense up.
I can barely breathe.
I am not me.