The Normal Ones

Stress at school and stress at home

Panic stricken I took a bite of the thick fingernail hanging off my thumb
Tasting myself, almost proved I was still standing still
Not running crazy or completely passed out from nausea
Every bite lit my mouth and my mind up, bringing me back
"This presentation will be worth five points. The total amount of points this semester will be two hundred eighty points. We will have five more presentations throughout the semester, the second through fourth all worth twenty points. The last presentation will count as your final and will be worth one hundred forty points, half your grade." A smile, all teeth. I need to drop this class, I thought to myself. Hopefully there was still another History 201 taught by a different professor still open.
Left fingernail hanging from my gums
Like leftover food
The student in front of me passed a stack of papers back. I took one and put the pile in my hand behind my back for the person behind me.
I kept myself occupied with why I spent so much time retraining my complacency
Maybe this class was exactly what I needed or maybe it would drive me in a straight line back into madness.
I decided to take a day to think it over.
Some call it patience.
The ones that want me to feel well and be well and appear well for their own success.
After all,
Freedom of speech, even freedom of thought has been out of limits.
At least in my working life.
Maybe I needed to speak my mind in front of a crowd. I always received failing grades on presentations in the past, even the last two semesters. They terrified me. I stuttered past my words, forgot my points, and once even fainted.
I have lived thirteen beautiful,
Triumphant, patient, successful,
Dishonest, free and guiltless lives
Each one opening my mind to the idea that I am who I say I am.
Never who another portrays me as.
Well, maybe I wanted to change who I was just a little.
I wanted badly to be the type of person who didn't stop a single tear of sweat at the thought of an oral presentation in front of a class full of sixty to seventy students and getting literally judged and graded while doing it.
But I was terrified.
I had always had trouble sharing my own words aloud. I always said them regardless. I believe firmly that even if you speak your truth in a whisper, you have still done yourself a great justice. It is when you don't try that maybe you ought to be ashamed.
This wasn't life, I did realize that.
It is breathing
Waiting
For myself to change on my own without any hard work or real effort on my part.
Speaking, more often not speaking, depending on the individual taste.
What happened to my taste, what I cared for? I was standing, barely
On stilt legs wanting to hit the ground so badly.
Failure is so much easier than showing your sweat and pain as you figure out something new with people watching as you do it
Failure is safe
I can run offstage and allow myself the embarrassment of my behavior.
This state of passive aggressive currency, exchange service only, base necessities
Food, water, shelter, if you must, and of course the occasional strong behavioral outbursts at certain intervals.
Why haven't I been able to allow myself these necessities? No wonder I was so nervous, jumpy, alone but never lonely.
I pot so much pride in being myself and trying to grow my potential and here I was considering dropping a class critical to my curriculum because I was afraid of...
A bad grade.
Of humiliating myself
Of that entire room full of blank stares watching me bomb
The laughter, the hopeful laughter when I think I've said something clever but really I have lost everyone's attention.
The loud "Stop" from the professor when I'm only halfway through a presentation I put ten hours into to tell me that continuing was unnecessary.
I was going to prove them all wrong.
I was going to defend myself the next time that possibly . I was going to work hard, use every technique I could find to make me speak well and articulately in front of a room full of scared students. I was going to remember that's all they were, that they have no agenda to embarrass me. I'm the one that does that all by myself.
I was going to take my own advice and use this terrifying class as a tool to become a better, stronger person.
I was going to stay in the class, and I was going to have my first presentation ready confidently by Friday. And if I bombed, I would ask for tips. And by my final, I would be amazing.
I left History 201 with a smile on my face, swallowing multiple fingernail pieces coated in iron.

I unlocked the door to our apartment and immediately pushed my cat back so she couldn't escape while scooping her up and giving her kisses as she gifted me tiny hairs in my nostrils. I giggled as I sneezed. I loved getting home first. I loved the peace that miraculously showed itself the moment I was left alone.
We drive the wrong way our entire lives
Where we think our intuition is telling us to go
But intuition is never still
And when you are able to find your own stillness, you don't abandon it
We may never find anything quite so comforting again
Our gut will never sit quietly when we are making progress
It will thunp, it booms
It bursts with newness
Fervor and fear
For the most part, we don't know our own minds.
Sometimes I confuse my mind with my state of mind while in deep meditation
I forget to subtract the energy I am calling to myself,
The energy I am willing away,
And the love God gives me that when I am still enough I feel all around me like the energy that comes before lightning.
We don't really ever know ourselves, hopefully because we are always changing.
But all of us can't wait to leave our mark behind
When we go
A reason to be remembered
I am extremely lucky to know that muy God will never forget me
But
Maybe the rest of them will think differently of us when we're gone
They
Maybe they will think better of ourselves than we ever did
If maybe we can turn back one day
Drive back the way we came
Fear dripping sweat and discomfort
Becoming our only clothing
Because now we know how big that small mistake would become, how much it would cling to our skin
How out of control of our actions we actually are.
Even when we're trying to do the right thing, the effect might spiral into a disaster that takes away everything important to you
So
Maybe we keep driving, no matter how impossible the road seems, if at times it looks as though we can't drive on
We can make it on foot
Leaving a footprint as a last mark on the world
A sign that we were able to step off the easy path
And when we keep pace with each other perfectly
Maybe no one will ever see
But we did
We did.

Sometimes I think he forgot how much we fought for,
Instead of only how much we fought.
Two years ago I cheated on Miles. We had been together eight years and everything was too perfect, except that he never seemed to hear me. I repeated certain things hundreds of times, and they wouldn't stick.
That I hated being tickled. I didn't like making out in public. That yelling frightens me. That I'm traumatized, sensitive, over reactional and overly paranoid.
That I have low self esteem but that I don't let others disrespect me. That I need someone to play a dominant role in my life to avoid simply going through the motions and reminding me of the scenes that go through my head that were catastrophic
That I needed help, and have little self control.
That I never want to drink again. Or be the person I was when I did. That I'm allergic to peppers and am lactose intolerant. That I have to watch rape scenes alone. That I don't like being touched when I'm tired. That I can't hear the word "bitch" gives me a panic attack. That I could never be in the relationship I used to have. That I am okay with him hooking up with ad someone else because I can't stand the hate he straps me down with. That I need to be independent, the most Non-negotiable of them all.
I layed back on the couch and kicked my shoes off