i don’t know what led me to do it, but i went and looked for the messages my mom and i exchanged on the day that i tried going back to school after months of not going. i shouldn’t have. i fear i’m one second away from a mental breakdown. that day was by far the worst i ever had. i still feel the fear i felt. but maybe i should start this differently. i’ve talked about this day before. but that was quite some time ago. there’s a lot of detail, i suppose. it’s been almost a year but it’s still all so evidently burned into my mind as if it was yesterday. some of you might still remember it.
so, let me start off like this; in 9th grade i missed a lot of school. 10th grade, i stopped going to for several months, because of my rapid decline in mental health and the countless panic attacks and mental breakdowns i had. my mother and i got into a lot of fights because of that. but then i had the courage to go back, after I visited my class one day, because it was the last day of school before a two week break. so i went back, once the break was over. but suddenly I wasn’t so sure anymore, if i could do it. the first class we had was math. with the teacher who i was scared of. and because we had covid restrictions, my best friend couldn’t sit with me. there used to be the arrangement that my friend and I weren’t allowed to be separated, due to my anxiety and having her with me could keep me calm. she is also good at math lol. but because of covid that wasn’t possible, so that was a punch to the guts, really.
i was so shaky when i opened my book. my teacher told us to just revise some stuff, which was definitely much better than starting off with making us talk. but as i was staring at my book, trying to find anything i could do, it was like i was looking at something written in a language I don’t speak. i couldn’t recognise anything. i knew we did this all before, but my mind was so terrifyingly blank. i gave myself another 5 minutes, before I ultimately excused myself and ran to the bathrooms. tears were already starting to stream down my face and as soon as my back hit the bathroom wall, i just broke down. i cried and i cried and the tears wouldn’t stop. eventually i started texting my mom, tell her that I couldn’t do this. that i was so scared and couldn’t calm down anymore. she was so sweet. told me she believed in me and that i got this. encouraged me to go back to class, but I couldn’t. i wasn’t able to calm myself down and it had been almost 15 minutes since i had left the classroom. eventually she kinda caved and I asked if she would come pick me up if my teacher agreed to let me go. she agreed, in a way. so i went back and told my teacher that i felt very sick. to he fair he surely saw my puffy, red eyes and my smeared mascara lmao but he agreed to let me go. my friend was sent to go down to the infirmary with me and was told to wait with me for a bit. and i went ahead and called my mother, but that’s where it all went downhill from. she started arguing with me, refused to come and get me, told me to get back to class and if i had to sit in the halls, i was gonna go back. at that point i had calmed down enough to speak my mind again, but not nearly enough to not spiral into a another state of panic. we were fighting; i was begging her to just come and get me. she was shouting at me to go back to class. (months later i found out my friend could hear my mom yelling, btw. even tho i already tried to get as much distance between us as possible, so she wouldn’t) eventually my friend had to go back to class, because she couldn’t miss the entire thing. and my mom caved at some point. but from here it just gets worse. she came to pick me up. i was waiting in the infirmary and when she came in, she looked at me and said two words. “I’m mad” and stormed out again. i hastily went after her and at this point i was crying again. we got into the car and no words were spoken throughout the entire ride. just my hysterical sobbing. she took a route she didn’t usually take, one that’s much longer than our usual one. i didn’t understand why, but i was way too afraid to say anything. there was no reason to take that road, but she did it anyways and i was oh so fucking scared of her. eventually we arrived home and as soon as the door fell shut behind us, she broke the silence by outright screaming at me. she got physical with me only once when i was little, where she hit me because i had made her mad. i didn’t even remember it happening but she told me about it a while ago and during that time, i was so sure she was gonna hit me. shove me, anything. i was waiting for it. it luckily never happened, though. she tried taking my phone too, obviously. but i refused to give that up. she can fight me for that, but i will not give her my phone, because she’s mad at me. eventually she stormed off and i went to my room. and of course not without her slamming every door she came across. i bawled my eyes out for another two hours or so.
phew, big text. but, that’s what happened. i feel so much better now. but it’s still almost comedic how you’d never expect this to go down if you see the text messages alone. when i think of that, all i can do is laugh bitterly with tears in my eyes.