My day has been really, really bad. Like I'm not going to lie. It was so bad, I felt like just falling back into bed and just never waking up again. I trudged on though and got a well deserved nap after I ate two double cheeseburgers from McDonald's and drank half a gallon of sweet tea. I don't even know where to start with this. I guess I'll just start with the beginning of the day.
I went to bed at 11:30pm. I woke up a little past one after having this nightmare that my mother was out to get me. I thought the dream was real and had a mild panic attack. When that finally ended and I was laying in bed humming the tune of Of Mice and Men's When You Can't Sleep At Night, I shut my eyes and tried to go back to sleep. I couldn't. I'm on a new medication for my panic attacks, anxiety, and depression. When I took my Celexa at night, it would usually put me to sleep a little bit later than I'd like to be asleep, but I didn't wake up until I had to. This new medicine, Effexor, I take in the morning. It wakes me up a little bit and it's supposed to keep me "okay" during the day. I still haven't gotten used to not having Celexa to knock me out and a couple of nights I had to take sleeping pills. I finally fell back asleep at 3 am, only to have to wake up at 4.
When I woke up at 4 and got dressed to go up to my stepgrandfather's, I couldn't find my promise ring. I freaked out. I've only had it since the beginning of the month and I remember having it on before I went to bed. I looked everywhere for it, but when I didn't find it, I put back on my pre-promise ring (yes, I had one of those), and wore it for the day. I found my promise ring when I got home. I went in my room with a flashlight and scanned over everything and found it in the dead center of my zebra bed sheets. I felt stupid.
Everything was pretty uneventful up until second period (besides the fact that when I ate my dinosaur oatmeal, all my dinosaurs melted and left red, green, and blue globs in my oatmeal). Second period is from 10:07 am until 11:34 am. It is my lovely advanced algebra and trigonometry class with a teacher who looks like the wrestler "Stone Cold" Steve Austin, but talks like Forrest Gump. It was towards the end of class and I was ready for lunch. Like, I was freaking hungry, end of story. The powerpoint had nothing to do with our notes and we had five minutes left of class. Everyone around me was packing up and I decided that I might as well also. Mr. Teacher (not his real name, I like to leave identities concealed when talking about someone) must have gotten annoyed because he looked around and pulls out me for an example. He says to me, "Kayla, why are you packed up?" I stared up at him with a deer in the headlights look because there's one thing that I do every single year since I've been diagnosed.
See, I have rights like everyone else. My rights should be respected. Every single start of a new class, teachers make you fill out the "about you" form. I fill out all my information and when it gets to a point where there's the question, "Is there anything else you'd like me to know?" I let my rights be known. The same words go down in script every single semester beginning. "I have severe anxiety. There are moments where I may have panic attacks, but don't be alarmed, I can take care of myself, you just have to give me a little room. All I ask of you is please don't make me an example of the class. I don't like to be pulled into something that will put me on the spot because it causes me to panic. Answering questions in class doesn't fall upon these lines, I'll do that perfectly if I know the answer (there's times when I don't and may ask for assistance). Thank you for respecting my disorder."
So here I am, deer in the headlights staring up at Mr. Teacher. He asks me again, "Kayla, why are you packed up? Class isn't over." I bit at my lip and I felt tears showing up in my eyes because I felt all eyes on me. My face was flushed and I could hear the voices in my head telling me, "Oh look at the fool you've made of yourself." "They all think you're stupid." "Look at the failure you are." Taunting me over and over. When Mr. Teacher said to me, "Stay after class," I almost cried. I acted numb and I had to keep blinking tears back in my eyes to keep from having an panic attack. Class ended and I watched as Mr. Teacher started cleaning up as everyone else was packing up their bags and leaving for lunch/3rd period. My friend Siera glanced over at me and she could tell that I was upset. People started coming in because there was an Anatomy class afterwards and I was sitting there, scratching the paint off my nail and mumbling to myself, not looking at anyone. A girl walked into the class and I must have been in her seat because she looked at me confused. I mouthed her a small, "Sorry." Mr. Teacher walked up to me and let me go, just saying, "Don't pack up." He could tell that I was upset from the look on his face and the way I grabbed my bags and darted out of there like a bat out of hell.
I stumbled down two flights of stairs to the lunchroom. I still had tears in my eyes and I was trying to wipe them away with Jeremy's jacket. Hoping that my panic attack would surpass. I got my Beefaroni, a salad with Italian dressing, a fork, and some ranch before wandering over at mine and Jeremy's table. We sit at the very end of a table to ourselves. People I know sit around us, but they leave us be. I grabbed my fork, about to open my Italian dressing and I didn't look at Jeremy. He pulled back the hair that was covering the left side of my face and that's when the panic attack hit. I grabbed the point on my plastic fork so hard it drew blood in my thumb and I put my face into his shoulder letting out loud sobs and not being able to catch my breath. He kept asking me over and over what was wrong and I couldn't say anything. It finally got to the point where he was just trying to shush me and some friends that I have 3rd with were giving me concerned looks. I was able to get myself to calm down a few minutes later and I started to eat my salad and explain to Jeremy what happened.
I haven't had a panic attack in public since November 26th, 2011. That was at my grandmother's funeral. I had lost the person who I was the closest with and I just didn't know what to do. I had a panic attack and that was the very first one. Since then, I've had too many to count.
I didn't talk in Chemistry. I sat in my seat doing my work and thankfully the teacher allowed us to listen to music. I had the new Motionless in White album on repeat. Someone gave me a free bag of peanut butter M&M's to make me feel better because she had saw what had happened and lunch and felt sympathy for me. She's a good friend.
I think it's sad really. I asked for my rights to be respected and the teacher completely ignored them. Yes, he has three classes a day and who knows how many students, but I've been in his class for over a month now. He knows how most of us tick. He's only asked me twice to answer a question in class because he knows how I am. I only talk to four people in that class and don't socialize with anyone else. I sit near his desk and he's caught me multiple times with my nose stuck in my writing notebook, sniffling because I've had a bad day. He's also noticed that I eat more chocolate than most 16 year old girls. I can't help it I have a love. I'm getting off topic. My rights were violated and I'm angered by that. I have nothing more to say.
-Kayla VI
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