I ended today with a hole in my elbow, a pain in my pectoral muscle
, and an uneasiness in my head concerning a certain someone
I’ve recently befriended.
The day started out innocently enough. I woke up on time, was relatively conscious during the morning routine, and made it out the door by 7:30. I went to go lift the garage door, since it was still broken, and felt an awful, tearing pain in my right pectoral region. It felt like my ribs were attacking my clavicle while my lungs suffered undue pressure. I hadn’t even gotten the door to lift an inch from the ground. I squeaked, ran back inside, and made my brother open the garage for me.
Got to school just fine. The roads were a little questionable, and several drivers were being either reckless, careless, or over-cautious. Why can’t everyone drive as well as me?
In humanities, we were required to read the essays we had written since the last class period. We split into groups of three and started sharing. When it was my turn, I refused. I had to do the same thing yesterday when a teacher of mine asked me to read some of my poetry to the class. My writings are private, and although I’ll never see any of these kids after May, I don’t want to live in fear of their pity and rejection. Anyway, for class today we had been required to write a philosophical contemplation piece. Mine concerned mental instability and how my mind once worked – the class would have been freaked out. Needless to say, I spared the awkward situation by avoiding the possibility.
Went to give blood this morning at nine o’clock. Went through the standard paperwork. I thankfully passed the iron test because of all the vitamins and supplements I’ve been taking since December in preparation for this day. My blood pressure was through the roof for some reason – 108/68. I’m usually 90/60. Guess I must have been nervous or something. Drank a tiny cup of juice, swore I weighed more than 110 pounds, and before I knew it I had a needle the size of a pencil jutting from my elbow. Since I had not eaten breakfast (who does?), the nurse made me lay down during the donation. I was done in five minutes flat, and well on my way to polishing off two dozen sugar cookies and a gallon of orange juice.
Had the group picture for NAHS right afterwards. I sat in the front, being an officer, and proudly displayed my betadined arm with the huge gauze pads and medical tape for the camera.
As I was walking back to class, I saw the girl I mentioned earlier walking along in the hall. I asked her if she had time to talk, and she said sure. The other people she was with drifted away, so it was just us two. We started an aimless wandering, during witch a very serious and personal conversation took place. I asked her about the scars on her arms, then showed her mine. I told her about being in the hospital and not being able to stop myself from cutting. She said her parents are making her see a counselor starting next month, that the only thing keeping her alive right now is her fear of death. I said I was glad she’s afraid of dying if it’s kept her here so far. I gave her my number and said to call if she ever needed to talk. She thanked me, and then the conversation moved on to matters of less gravity.
As we were walking, we somehow ended up in the back of the school by the auditorium. The infamous band director walked by and stopped. He started pointedly at my elbow, so I brandished my injury before his eyes and told a horrible story of pain. He simply kept staring at me, so I said I was fine, since I was. He said he was glad. The girl I was with said she wanted to give blood, but she didn’t weigh enough. That was blatantly obvious – her clothes hung from her bony frame, and knobby wrists showed beneath layers of rave bracelets. She gave the usual story about the medication, said she was a picky eater and whatnot. She almost had me convinced. Her sunken eyes surrounded by streaks of black makeup almost looked sincere.
Overall, not a bad day.