𝑜𝓃𝑒

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GRAYSON

Social anxiety disorder.  It's the thing that can ruin any chance of feeling good about yourself. It's that constant fear of being judged, that pit of nerves in your stomach when you're around a crowd of people. Everyday social interactions cause me to feel constant panic and anxiety.

I got diagnosed when I was thirteen, and haven't been the same since. My parents try to be as supportive as possible, but when I never attend any social gatherings for my family, it causes them to become frustrated. Over the past six years, I have been on medication for it. It helps for the most part, but there's always that little bit of fear that never really goes away.

It doesn't make it better that I attend the University of Chicago, which has a population of fourteen thousand students. I didn't want to go, I wanted to go to the community college like my brother does. The only reason I'm put through the torture of a large university is because my father is an accounting professor there. He allowed me to live home and commute thirty minutes everyday. I took the offer, knowing I would never be able to live on the packed campus.

I graduated high school with the accomplishment of being number five in my class. I'm smart, what can I say. I may not speak two words to you but that doesn't mean my brain isn't racing with a million different thoughts.

My hand flips to the next page of the book that is currently in my hands, eager to see what happens next. Reading calms my thoughts, it keeps me sane. I would rather live in a world of fiction than the painful reality of the real world. I can read the same classic novels over and over again and never get sick of them.

This goes hand in hand with writing. Sometimes I write my own stories, get lost in my own fictional world. I guess my goal one day is to be an author, but I doubt that would happen. That would require me to actually interact with people.

The front door suddenly swings open with a thud, causing my concentration to be interrupted. A low sigh escapes my lips as the sound of sneakers scraping against the carpet catches my attention.

"Grayson?" I hear Ethan's voice call out to me.

"In here." I yell from the kitchen table, waiting for him to enter.

My twin brother walks into the room, he's in the process of taking off his jacket. His brown hair is pushed up off his forehead as he begins to shiver.

"It's raining really bad out there." He states while walking closer to me.

"I can see that." I turn my head to look out the back door. Rain droplets are sliding down the glass, landing at the bottom.

"The wind is insane." Ethan shakes his head.

"They don't call Chicago the windy city for nothing." I shrug my shoulders.

Ethan nods, grabbing a water bottle out of the refrigerator. "What are you reading?"

"Catcher in the Rye." I answer him.

"Again? You always read that." My brother lightly laughs.

"It's my favorite." I look up at him.

"Sometimes I think you like Holden Caulfield more than you like me." He refers to the main character of the famous young adult novel.

"Not true." I shake my head.

"Aren't you going to be late for your English class?" Ethan looks up at the clock on the wall.

"Yes, I need to leave now." I let out a deep breath and put the book down on the table.

"That's why I take morning classes." Ethan smirks while patting my back lightly. "Now I have time to go to the gym."

little white lies | grayson dolanWhere stories live. Discover now