Levels of Stress

Level Six

I wrapped my arms tightly around Belle and pushed a half smile onto my lips as she looked up to plant a kiss on my cheeks. The little sweety went back down onto her heels and said goodbye before going to class.

My phone buzzed and I carefully looked for teachers and staff before checking who'd texted me.

I was pleasantly surprised to see Ally's name flash across the screen from my pocket.
"Meet me in the courtyard" she texted. I looked over to her locker and saw her slip her phone into her back pocket.

Ally was quite the character. Her blond hair was tucked into a black beanie today, matching her band t-shirt and black jeans. A single headphone was plugged into one of her ears. She pulled her bag out of her locker and noticed me looking. Ally double checked for staff and then waved me over.

I walked a short distance away to my class and grabbed the pass. I was far more than caught up in biology. I can afford to miss one lesson.

Following Ally from a far distance away, the bell rang and everyone rushed to class, except for the two of us. She disappeared behind the glass doors and I quickly caught it before it could shut all the way.

Ally was sitting on a stone bench in the middle of the courtyard just like she had said. She glanced over at me like I was foreign to her and smirked a bit, "Took you long enough."

I caught up with my breath and sighed, "Yeah. What's happening Ally?"

Her thumb hovered over the pause button and she finally clicked it. She wrapped the cord around her phone and held it loosely in her hands. Something was wrong.

"Ally?" I asked worriedly and sat down next to her.

She closed her eyes tightly and sighed, "How do you deal with it?"

Based on my conversation the other day, I knew far too well what she was talking about. I looked off into the distance and balanced my arms on my knees, arching my back and running my hands through my hair.

"I mean, I don't want to offend you because I know you have it bad. It's not hard to catch your fake smiles and laughs. I just...haven't felt happy in a while. I want to be happy for my friends and be happy for myself, but I just..."

"-can't," I finished for her as she struggled to end the sentence, "That's exactly right."

She rubbed circles into her temples and squeezed her eyes tighter, "And these damn headaches aren't making it any easier on me."

I knew the exact feeling. Someone else could easily start talking about their problems in this situation. I had many; for example, - the obvious - depression, anxiety, insomnia, sleep apnea, and pains almost everywhere on my body that more than likely was caused by depression.

I hated watching her try to fight through this. I started dealing with this since I was nine years old, that's five years of developing tricks and ways to get around it.

I couldn't start complaining. It wasn't time for that. I'm not the one asking for help, she is. I put an arm around her shoulder and pull her close.

With lack of better words, I whispered, "I-I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," she said back and wiped a single tear.

She was true. I wasn't the one causing her stress. For all I know, no one but her is causing her stress. My best guess ended with drama and schoolwork.

"How can I help," I ask, more order.

"You don't have to do anything. You've got other problems to deal with," she scooted away.

I scooted back, "Ally, you wouldn't come to me just to dismiss me."

She stared down at her phone and then over to me, "You're right. I just needed to tell someone instead of piling it inside to myself. One day I'm convinced it's gonna topple over."

"Hey," I said calmly and took her hand, "I promise, it's gonna get better. Just give it a minute. It may not look like it now, but one day it'll hit you in the face and you'll be happy."

She smiled, for real this time.

"And you know I'm always here to talk to. I can work around schedules. I don't mind at all. The first step is you asking for help, and you've already done it. You're already wanting to get better and I admire you for that strength," I poured out to her.

Ally swallowed hard and kept the smile on her face. She gave me a quick hug, turning her music back while she got up and rolled her eyes, "Get back to class you nerd."

I chuckled and waved her off as I went back to class.

***

It was my last night at my mom's house and I was up on my phone somewhere around three in the morning.

"Aren't you exhausted?" Lucy texted, breaking our conversation about our favorite band's album.

"Yeah," I admitted, "Can't sleep."

"Ah. I gotcha. Neither can I," she sent.

It stayed quiet for a while, and a message came through from her, "What's wrong with us?"

I thought back to the conversation I had with Ally about the same thing. Closing my eyes, I pieced together a text and open them to type it.

"Nothing..." I went off on a poetic rant, talking about our minds. It's not uncommon to develop stress and to be upset at our age. There's so much to think and worry about as you get older. You're piled with more responsibilities and work. It's tough.

Lucy and I went back and forth with our deep conversation, sounding so beautifully poetic. I couldn't believe what she'd sent to my phone. It was so unbelievably true. She was in the same boat I was, even closer to Ally's.

Eventually, she gave into sleep and sent a usual, sweet goodnight text. I replied with one as well and thanked her for the conversation.

Some people made me feel bad after I admit my secrets to them. Once they know that I have panic disorder and anxiety, they'll either hide away or not be cautious enough. Once they hear I have depression, they move away from me like it's contagious.

My friends were different. They cared. They helped. I didn't feel like I was alone. Either they understood my pain enough or they had it themselves. I had someone to relate to and that was the best part of it all.

I locked my phone and looked up at the ceiling. My eyes started feeling heavy after a few minutes and they eventually shut peacefully.

In the middle of the night, I woke up, unable to breathe. I sat up quickly in my bed, watching a rush of color come across my field of vision. My head was spinning in circles and my lungs weren't filling enough. My heart thumped slower than it ever had before.

My back arched as I coughed violently and gasped for air. A light flicked on in the hall and my mother came running in with an oxygen mask. Carefully, she strapped it around me and laid me back down.

My chest was sore from my fit and I slowly allowed more and more cool air to creep up into my lungs.

She left to get back to sleep five minutes later, after she thought I might be okay.

I pulled the sheets up to my chin and rolled on my side. The tubes on the mask tugged at my face, but I was too tired to care. It wasn't just that night, it was almost every night where that happened. Whether I was wearing the mask or not. It was bad.

The worst cases were when I was at my dad's. He was never home or he didn't know what was going on upstairs in my room. I wheezed by myself, attempting to get my heartbeat to match a normal tempo.

I thought about my friends again. None of them had to go through this. I'm glad they didn't. I would much rather take this pain and let them live their lives.

Level Six: Pain is not a Lonely Feeling