Today during Math class I had a panic attack. Well a pre-panic attack. Everyone around me was talking, the conversations varying from: "How was your Spring Break?" "I know Science class was so fun!" "It went by so fast, I can't wait for Summer Break." "Maybe next time we should hang out." Even the loner in the back of the room was talking to someone.

I sat in the middle of the classroom, breathing heavily and trying to focus on one spot that wasn't spinning. I felt like my chest was going to pop from the tight knot I felt. I felt like I was going to cry. Or throw up. Or pass out. Or all of them.

I couldn't focus after the teacher called the class to order and I'm pretty sure I failed the test we took today.

I've been trying to work up the nerve to see the school counselor but…I lose the nerve. I've tried my classic pep talks but they don't work. You see, I have to use pep talks to basically function.

Picking out of clothes: "Just pick out something cute, no not that that makes you look fat. Yes! That! Perfect!"

Walking to the bus stop: "Just keep your head down, keeping your head down helps you avoid confertation and means you don't want to talk. Yep, there you go! Perfect! You're brilliant!"

Walk into the classroom:  "Just go inside, you have everything. No one is behind you. Shoot, you need your notebook. Just borrow a piece of paper from the bin. Perfect! You're awesome!"

I guess I do this because I don't hear those things without a sarcastic undertone or a snicker or two afterwards.

I talk to myself. I know.

You would think my teachers would pick up on my withdrawl from class discussions, or my not keeping my head up while walking through the halls. Maybe… But they do have their own lives and just aobut 200 students to look after. I shouldn't expect so much, I suppose.

I have to get to bed, and I don't want to. I don't like sleeping. But it's the only way to get away from life. But when I'm asleep I keep…seeing things. The darkness sweeping over me is the replaying dream every night. I wake up in tears and sweat every morning…I don't like it. I do not understand it, either.

I still can't understand what the whispers are…and I still can't get out of the dark.

I…have to get to bed.

Good night,

Sydney

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