Just Keep Breathing

Today, my head hurt like a bitch. Last night after the first spiked soda I had, I consumed another three or four and became increasingly intoxicated. Now today, I was paying for it by having a killer headache. I was a light weight, can’t blame me.

And to add to it, Oli probably wasn’t the best person to be sitting next to at a party while he was drinking. He tended to give me more alcohol than I needed. He was also loud and often shouted vulgar words or comments, yet he was still the life of the party even while sitting in an over sized, half rusted lawn chair. I finally got what Steven said about him being as an asshole.

He made fun of people, egged on little arguments, and yet no one hated him. Girls still lined up to flirt and guys still hung around. He was potentially a good guy inside, but it definitely didn’t show.

Since I hardly talked last night, I had a chance to study him. He was slightly intimidating with his countless tattoos and piercings, but he had the face of a kid, his expressions were childish and forced and slightly awkward. I could tell he had a huge ego which was constantly fueled by the people around him.

I pushed thoughts of last night out of my mind and crawled out of bed. I refused to look into my mirror as I left my room, knowing that my hair was messy and tangled and my sweat pants and sports bra pajamas made me look raggedy.

When I entered the kitchen my mom was by the stove cooking up a pan of bacon and she had other breakfast like ingredients spread around her. She looked up and smiled as I opened the refrigerator and took out a carton of juice.

“How did last night go?” She asked, what she really meant was, “You didn’t have any attacks did you?”

“It was fine.” I responded, pouring a large glass of orange juice. “Nothing bad happened.”

Okay, so that was a bit of a lie. Last night, without warning, my body had started getting that feeling. My hands became clammy and cold chills inside of me made my skin erupt in goose bumps. I had to get up and go for a walk just to calm myself down before returning to the party. Of course, my mom didn’t need to know that.

“You hungry?” She asked. I couldn’t say no because she had already started making up a plate of food for my brother and me. I just nodded and watched as she piled more food than I could eat onto one plate and set it in front of me. I poked at the food with my fork and took a few bites before picking up the plate and heading into my room where I knew I wouldn’t eat it.

“Have fun at the party?” My brother appeared in my door way, his hair still wet from a shower, but it
didn’t hide the fact that he had bags under his eyes. I nodded and started flipping through a magazine.

“I’ll be honest, I thought you were going to freak out when I left you alone. Good to know that you actually lasted the whole night.” I knew he meant it nicely, but I took it more as an insult. He continued talking though, “There’s another get together tonight, ya’know, if you want to go.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I responded and moved my hands around as a motion to shoo him out of my room.

I knew I wouldn’t go tonight. I knew what my limits were, and I don’t think I could push them any more than I did yesterday. I was lucky that I didn’t have an episode worse than what happened, and I definitely didn’t want to chance my luck.

By noon I had re-cleaned my room several times, moving little things around and vacuuming all the exposed carpet. I was trying to distract myself from over thinking. I did that a lot. So I cleaned away and kept my thoughts on whether or not any of the chemicals I was using to clean my shower contained bleach or ammonia so I wouldn’t mix the two and accidentally kill myself. I wonder how many people actually every thought of that while spraying down the walls of their shower with a Scrubbing Bubbles shower cleaner.

By the time I had nothing else to clean it was around 4:30pm, and my brother was back in my door way, about to pester me about the get together tonight. You could tell by his facial expression that he was thinking of things to tell me that would pursued me to go.

“I’m not going.” I said before he even had a chance to ask.

He got this frustrated look on his face, “Damn Isabel, and why not?”

“I don’t feel like it.” I replied and tried to distract myself with something in my room, hoping he might go away.

“Okay fine, just sit in your room all night on a Saturday being a fucking hermit and having no life.” This is when he tried to piss me off enough that I’ll give in.

Before I had a chance to think of something and reply, his phone went off and he glared at me before answering it and walking away from my bedroom door. I got up and shut the door, twisting the metal so it locked and I flopped back down on my bed.

Outside I heard my brother try to open the door, when he realized it was locked he knocked on it and shouted, “You might want to get dressed anyways. Plans changed, everyone is coming here tonight.”

Well shit..

&&

I was becoming increasingly annoyed with the loud music downstairs. Here I am, minding my own business up in my room, and my floor is basically shaking from the bass of the speakers.

My mom ditched out on me, saying she was going to my grandma’s for their weekly dinner. When I tried to hint that I wanted to go, she told me no, and that I should stay home. I call bullshit, my whole family is plotting against me. But I guess that’s just what being a teenager is all about.

I was starting to not feel well, but there was nothing obvious that could have triggered my anxiety. That didn’t stop it from overtaking though.

This made me feel pathetic. Just a few months away from my 19th birthday and I still couldn’t control my anxiety. The doctor told me not to worry about that, he said most people couldn’t learn to control or hide it with out medicine until they were near their thirties, but that seemed like forever to me.

Sometimes I felt naive and young and helpless. Like I was a child again who couldn’t fend for herself. I hated it, I hated how it controlled everything about me.

I walked into my bathroom and leaned over into the shower and turned the water to cold and forced myself inside the glass doors. Still completely clothed I let the cold water wash over me. My breathing was shallow and now there was no different between chills from my anxiety and chills from the cold water.

Closing my eyes, I leaned to the side of the shower and slowly shed away all of my clothing and hung them over the door of the shower, watching as drops of water fell from them. I ran my fingers through my cold, wet hair and opened my eyes, looking straight into the water faucet.

The water worked better than I expected, and I soon felt myself coming back to reality. First thing I noticed was my chattering teeth but I made no attempt to turn the knob of the shower to a warmer temperature. Once calm and collected, and extremely cold, I did all the usual shower things and turned off the cold water.

My skin was an awkward pink color, tired of being cold. My face lacked any look of sleeplessness now, and my lips were pale and chilled.

I wrapped my towel around me and headed back into my room, going to my dresser and putting on underwear and a pair of jeans. I rummaged through my closet and grabbed out a random black tank top, which showed more cleavage than I’d like, but I didn’t bother to change.

I fixed my hair and tamed the make up that ran down my face during my shower. Before exiting my bathroom I opened the cabinet, grabbed my medicine, and hesitated before gulping it down with a small cup of tap water.

With some sort of bravery, I clasped my hand around my doorknob and headed into the hall of my house. No one was upstairs, which was a good thing. I walked past my brothers room and a bathroom and started down the stairs.

This party was considerably smaller than the last, it was more like a kick back with a few friends. I hardly recognized anyone. Most people didn’t even notice me, which I was completely happy with.

“Well if it isn’t Elle, nice of you to join us.” I just glared at my brother and passed by him, attempting to head for the kitchen.

“Well someone sure is pissy.” A familiar, accent voice said.

I turned and looked at Oli who was standing with my brother and a few of his friends. I glared, knowing it was pointless, “Oh shut up.”

“See what I mean?” Oli joked, “Aw c’mon, don’t get your knickers in a twist, I’m only jokin’ around.”

I shook my head and again I glared a bit, turning away from them and walking towards the kitchen. I grabbed a can of soda and started heading back to the stairs, hoping to head back up to my room.

“Aye, don’t go back up there.” It was Oli again, who unlike yesterday, was very much on my nerves. “We’re going to watch a movie done ‘ere. Not sure how exactly with this many people, but you should watch it, even if you‘re pissy.”

I was very tempted. Its not every day a very cute guy, man whore or not, asks you to stick around and watch a movie. But I had to keep up my mad act, “Nah, I’ll pass.”