There’s a lump in my throat. I can’t seem to concentrate, to think, even. The feeling at the pit of my stomach prevents me from eating, despite what people say.

The white walls of the classroom seem especially bright today, the lights sharper and more focused. Everything else, however, seems blurry; as though I have shut out colors and sounds. What’s wrong with me?

I’m numb, just numb, just floating along in life. I go through the motions of being a straight-A student, but none of it makes sense and I just can’t care anymore. I can’t make myself care. All I want is to scream, but to scream would be to let go, and to let go would be to be helpless. And I can never appear helpless. I need people to see me as the in-control girl. The girl who has her act together.

Kids fly past me in the hallway, their cheerful chatter burning through my ears. I can’t take it, I can’t listen to them anymore. I go to the bathroom.

I can’t fight it anymore. I need to cry.