Sweet Home... Minnesota?

Sometimes I cry and I don’t know why.

That’s a little secret adults don’t tell you, because you have to figure it out yourself. You cry. You hurt all the time. You hurt 24/7 and sometimes it gets to be so much that you don’t even understand why you cry about it anymore, or what you’re crying for. It just sort of happens, and you have to go with it but you try to stop and you can’t.

In seventh grade I started crying in the middle of class, and I don’t know what caused it. It’s been too many years to remember what it felt like, but I just remember being sad. Feeling pointless, feeling... insignificant. I didn’t think I’d ever get anywhere, and to this day that feeling persists with me, but it’s grown into a dull ache. I’m still afraid that no one will care about me, and it hasn’t gotten better, if anything its gotten worse, I have just learned how to pretend it’s not there.

Just like in seventh grade I cry sometimes and I don’t know why. There had been this kid that I sat next to, he was a friend of mine, and he just seemed so concerned. He’d asked me what was wrong, but I just didn’t have an answer. It had been homeroom, right after lunch, so I wasn’t distracting a class or anything, but I’d built a little barrier out of geography textbooks. I remember wanting to crawl underneath the desks. That kid didn’t stop asking me what was wrong, but after a while I think he knew I wasn’t going to answer so he didn’t ask as much. I’d caught the attention of two other people who questioned me, but when I didn’t answer they walked away.

It had taken me twenty minutes to stop, but every time I tried to it felt like my soul was being hammered on, or squeezed, and I just wanted it to go away. What I felt in seventh grade is the same feeling I get to this day.

If I could describe that feeling I get when this happens, I wouldn’t. No one deserves to know what that feels like. It’s just something you should never try to experience, like getting shot or being stabbed. That feeling is far worse though because it’s internal, it attacks from your core, and then spreads.

I’ve been known to demonstrate mental pain physically in my life through things like sweating, and I once slept for two days.

For some reason I’m having another one of those nights.

I feel that tugging in my stomach that is like the countdown to a bomb, just as I’m stepping into Mikey’s house. It’s about nine, and I want to go to bed, but I can’t let Mikey hear me collapse.

“Mikey I’m going to, uh, take a drive, if that’s okay?”

“What? Why?”

“Just want to clear my head, and be alone for a little while,” I say.

Mikey knows me well enough to know that’s not exactly an ideal phrase to hear from me but he doesn’t protest.

He’s heard it a lot actually, come to think of it. A few years ago when Mikey lived with me in New York for a little while, he’d heard that a lot. It’s been five years now so I think he’s let it go, but he’s not one to forget, and I see the gears turning in his mind.

“You’re okay though?”

“Yeah I just need to... this town is strangling me, I need to breathe for a few minutes,” I lie. I think it’s believable enough though.

“Promise?”

“Promise,” I say and I turn to walk back out the door. I intend to keep my promise I just need to freak out right now where no one’s going to judge me.

At this point the more I prolong it the more it’s going to hurt. It’s like Tourette syndrome, in the way that you can hold it back for a little while, but when it finally comes out it’s going to be twice as bad. I have no choice though, I can’t breakdown right now, not while I’m driving.

I pull to the side of the road after driving for about twenty minutes. I’d drive a little further, but right now I feel dizzy, like my whole head is full of helium or something. It’s painful even though my head feels lightweight and almost feathery. My brain is humming and buzzing like cell phone on vibrate.

I stop the car on a quiet stretch of road, where it’s unlikely many, or any cars at all, are going to drive by.

My head is pounding. How long have I had a headache? I can’t remember anything that would have caused it but I don’t know if it’s just because of the feeling.

My body reminds itself to cry at this point and my stomach feels like it’s being squeegeed, like someone’s ringing my insides the way you would a towel.

“Ow! Fuck,” I say as my head collides with the driver’s side window. I hadn’t meant to slam it against the clear pane but I do so anyway, and the sensation feels like salt on an open wound to my banging head.

It’s too loud in here. There’s no noise actually coming from the car, but I shove the door open and then close it to stand on my legs and stretch out. It’s no quieter out here, and for some reason it sounds like there are sirens resonating from my inner ear.

For a long moment I can’t decide if I’m cold or hot. I get a shill followed by an intense wave of heat and the two combine to make me feel like someone’s playing with my internal thermostat as if it’s a game. My body shivers then burns, and I don’t know what to do, so I pull up the sleeves of my shirt but then my body shudders from polar temperatures.

Something feels weird. My stomach feels more than just mentally sick, it feels physical.

I figure it out a second before my body reacts and I hunch over to the side and taste unpleasantly acidic bile. I hate puking, even after being so used to it. I hadn’t eaten much food at the party, and the only food I did eat was because Mikey told me to. I don’t have the same appetite I used to and I find it nearly impossible to actually eat things so it’s no surprise that there’s nothing in my stomach to actually throw up. It makes the smell worse though, and I wipe my mouth after a minute, and walk over to the hood of the car to lean down on the hood.

I’m sweating pretty badly, but it’s hot outside so I’m not surprised by the perspiration. My arms still tingle with cold as well, and it gets to be that the heat itself feels icy so I don’t know what I feel anymore. My shirt sticks to me and bunches up to make my skin itchy, but I don’t notice because I’m still sobbing. I want to stop crying. I want to drive back into town and sleep because my whole body feels limp with exhaustion, but I also know that I’m shaking so much I wouldn’t be able to grip the steering wheel if I tried. I can’t focus on anything, not even the night sky, because the wet tears on my face blur everything around me.

The adrenaline in my system makes my muscles burn and croak as I try to push the feeling away but it only makes my breathing get harder. I’m wheezing for air but my chest has contracted to not allow any air to fall through my lungs. I can’t breathe while I’m crying but I can’t stop crying to breathe.

To be completely honest I feel like I’m dying. Sweat coats my face, and makes my hair stick to the top of my head and ears so I push it away which severely ruins whatever hairstyle I’m sporting right now. My hands creep up my body to make sure that I’m not being choked, because I feel someone’s hands around my esophagus but there’s nothing there.

Am I going insane?

Am I dying?

I don’t know if I’ve ever been more scared then I am right now.

~*~*~*~

The next thing I know is that I’m waking up to a loud sound.

I don’t know what just happened, but I completely lost every second of the last few hours. It honestly feels like someone jump cut my life.

The sun is leaking through the window of my car, and my back is stiff and aching against the backseat of my car. How did I get here?

I groan trying to pull myself up and the sun is blinding. It’s got the same effect as when you wake up from a really bad hangover which is what I feel like right now. My head throbs, and my stomach clenches, yearning for sustenance. I smell like piss, sweat and vomit, so I must be a wreck.

It takes me a minute to push myself out of my lying position and when I do so I try to place the annoying ring coming from somewhere in front of me until I realize it’s my phone. It takes my groggy mind a few moments to pinpoint the source of the noise and when it clicks that my phone is ringing I jump to try and find it but the noise stops before I do.

I shake my head, and rub my eyes to try and send the fatigue away but it does nothing. I feel like I just swallowed a giant case of Nyquil or something but I know I’m not going to get back to sleep.

My limbs are dangling ropes against my body and I put my hand to my head to try and remember what happened after I got here last night. I faintly recall dragging myself into the car but that’s about it. My arm shows signs of being eaten alive by pesky mosquitoes, as I have a heavy set of bumps on my exposed skin almost like little pimples but red and painful and itchy. They’re stinging to scratch so I pull the sleeves of my shirt down so that I can’t tempt myself.

The noise starts up again and this time I use the sound to help me find my phone like a game of Marco Polo.

I find it after the fourth ring and answer it to make the annoying sound go away.

“Hello?” I ask and my voice sound hoarse. I have to clear my throat so that it doesn’t sound like I’ve lost my voice altogether.

“Where the fuck are you?” Mikey asks, and he sounds pissed. I’d forgotten to check the caller ID, but I should’ve know who it was on the other end anyway considering how overbearing he can be. He’s just trying to look out for me and I know that.

“I’m sorry, I honestly just fell asleep in my car.”

“Have you been drinking?” He asks and he sounds far past the point of anger. He is livid.

“What? No, Mikey of course not!” I say defensively, “I swear I haven’t done anything like that.”

“Then what happened?”

“I just wanted to go for a drive and then I was feeling sick,” I say honestly, “I stopped on the side of the road and then I just fell asleep. I’m sorry.”

“You should be! The second I realized you didn’t come home last night I freaked out. How could you? Why didn’t you call?”

“I just forgot okay? I was feeling like shit and I forgot.”

“You forgot? How do I know you weren’t drinking?”

“I didn’t! I wasn’t! I did not drink anything. You can smell me if you have to, okay? You’re not going to want to, but I promise there is no booze on me.”

“Alright, fine, but get your ass in this house as soon as you can, or quicker.”

“Okay I’ll be there soon, I’m not feeling very good so I’ll be a little while because I don’t want to drive to quick.”

“Just whenever you can. I’m not through with you yet, you know.”

“Yeah I figured. See you in a few okay?”

I hang up a moment later and my head falls against the head rest in the back as I try to summon up the will to move.