Remember to Forget, Revised and Expanded (8 page)
My breathing increases as I try to relax, but nothing is working. The music gets
quieter, and then everything is silent. All I can hear is my heart racing, and the
ringing in my ears. All I can feel is my shaking body. I feel like I'm stuck in an
earthquake. Except the earthquake is myself, and there's no escape.
Why does this happen to me? Why do I deserve all this?
My thoughts become jumbled as I try to do what my therapist told me.
Count to ten.
I slowly count to ten.
It doesn't work.
Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth.
I do that a few times.
It doesn't work.
I squeeze my fists repeatedly, another thing my therapist told me. It makes me focus
on something other than my panic attack.
I just have to let the anxiety run through my body. I can't do anything to stop it.
It could last for a while, or it could be over in a few minutes.
The violent shaking continues to increase. I need to stop this.
Xanax.
I fumble in my pockets for my wallet, looking for my pill.
C'mon. I have to have some in here. I always carry it with me.
I finally find it and quickly run to the bathroom that's connected to the room.
Thankfully, no one is in here. I swallow the pill with some water and sit down on
the cold tile floor to let it sink in.
The symptoms slowly fade away.
It's 11:01.
There's a text from my dad.
Hope you're having fun. Be home by 12.
Oh, yeah. I'm having tons of fun. Just hanging out with my anxiety. We're having
a swell time.
I lean my head back against the wall and squeeze my eyes shut. Finally, my body is
still. I'm all right.
A light turns on, and I snap my head toward the bathroom door.
“Levi, are you okay?”
Why can't I just be alone?
I
was worried when I couldn't find you.”
Delilah comes and sits beside me on the cold tile floor. She looks at me with wide
eyes. She seems scared and very concerned.
I move over a little so she's not so close.
“What happened? Did someone do something to you?” she whispers. She's talking quietly,
but there's no one around that would be able to hear us.
I shake my head no, not looking up at her.
Instead, I watch her through my peripheral vision, and can tell she notices my abnormal
breathing and my shaky hands as I reach up to fix my hair.
She leans her head against the wall and turns her body so she's facing me. “Why are
you shaking? Levi, whatâ Wait, you're having a panic attack, aren't you?”
I slowly nod.
She speaks quietly, barely audible. “I'm really sorry. I honestly thought it was
just a few people. Aiden said it was just some of his friends hanging out. He didn't
say it was
this.
If I had known, I wouldn't have come either. It's sorta overwhelming.
I hate stuff like this.”
Delilah seems like she's being truthful, and I believe her for some reason. There's
just something about her words that makes me believe she's not lying.
“Do you need anything to stop it? Are you going to be all right?” she asks, concerned.
“I can go get you some water or something.”
I give her a thumbs up to indicate I'll be all right.
We sit in silence for a minute or two. The only sound is the muffled noise from
outside the bathroom. I can still hear the music and people screaming. It makes my
head pound just thinking about it.
“Do you want to leave?” she asks, peering over at me.
I look at her for the first time and see the sincerity in her eyes. It's not pity
like I thought it was earlier. It's empathy.
I nod slowly.
She stands up and reaches down to lend me a hand. She smiles a little and nods slightly,
as if she's saying it's okay.
I hesitatingly accept it.
“Just follow me. If you get nervous, let me know. I just need to find Aiden,” she
tells me as we leave the bathroom. She's still talking quietly, and I like it for
some reason. It makes me feel like I can trust her, like she'll keep this all a secret.
She's not treating me like a child or getting upset with me like everyone else. She's
just acting natural about it. “Are you okay now?”
I nod.
She weaves in and out of the crowd of people as we move through the house. I focus
on Delilah, careful not to lose her. I try to ignore the many people surrounding
me. I don't need more anxiety.
We make it to the kitchen and see Aiden standing with a group of people. He has his
arm around the waist of a girl while they talk. Aiden laughs at something the girl
says, and she moves slightly closer.
He notices us and waves.
“Well, hey guys!” he says excitedly. “How's everything going? Having fun?”
Delilah takes a deep breath. “Levi and I are leaving!” she shouts over the noise.
“The party's just starting though!” Aiden says, wiggling his eyebrows.
Delilah rolls her eyes. “Do you want to stay? Or leave with us?” she asks him.
He waves her off. “I'm staying!” He glances over to the girl beside him and smiles.
“All right. Have fun,” she says, rolling her eyes but smiling.
“Bye, guys! See you later,” Aiden says, before turning back to the girl, seeming
to forget about everyone else instantly.
I follow Delilah outside. Every few seconds, she makes sure I'm still behind her
until we've made it to the car. She gets into the car and looks over at me confused
when I don't get in.
I stand outside the car and light a cigarette.
“You're kidding, right? You are seriously not a smoker,” Delilah says after she rolls
down the window.
I shrug. I'm not really a
smoker
. I'm just so nervous right now, I need something
to take my mind off the anxiety. It's just a little stress reliever. It's not like
I'm addicted.
“I shouldn't be as surprised as I am,” she says, rolling her window back up.
I'm relieved to be out of the party, and my anxiety has finally decreased. I can
breathe normally again, and my body has stopped shaking. I can relax a little now.
I get in the car once I'm done smoking, and Delilah starts the engine. I'm more relaxed
getting into the car this time, mostly because I don't want to go to sleep and have
today be over with.
“I was thinking we could go get something to eat, then go home. Is that okay?” Delilah
asks as she drives. “Only if you want to, though. We don't have to.”
I think for a few seconds. I am hungry, but I don't really want to go. I'm exhausted
too. But Delilah helped me out. Though she's still a girl who makes me uncomfortable.
However, I'm quite hungry.
I nod, and she smiles.
“Okay, there's a place around here that should be open,” she says. “I really am sorry
about tonight.”
I'm not quite sure why I agreed to go out. If she had asked a few minutes earlier,
I would've said no. This is very unlike me.
We drive for a few more minutes before she pulls into a small diner. A red neon sign
reads “Breakfast 24/7.” I text my dad to let him know I'll be home soon.
Wait, since when do I care about curfew? Or my dad?
We get out of the car and head into the diner.
Delilah and I sit at a table, and the waitress hands us menus. I get pancakes, and
Delilah gets waffles. We both get chocolate milk.
We sit in silence the first few minutes. I feel like no one ever knows how to start
a conversation with me, which is understandable. I'm
me
. Plus, it's kind of hard
to have a conversation with someone who doesn't talk.
Delilah finally starts to speak. “So, uh, what grade are you in?”
I type something in my phone and press speak. “I dropped out.”
She scrunches her eyebrows and stirs the straw in her milk. “Oh. I'm a junior.”
“What's a junior?”
“Oh, right, Australia doesn't call it that. Um, what you call Year 11, I think.”
I nod. “I would've been in Year 11 this year.”
“Oh. When did you drop out?”
“This year. I was homeschooled for a little, but it came to the point where I wasn't
getting out of bed. And I assume you know why.”
Her cheeks turn slightly red. “What?”
“I saw you looking at my folder.”
Her eyes widen, and she looks down. “I'm really sorry. I didn't, I was just . . .
I'm sorry.”
“I shouldn't even be acknowledging your existence for being so snoopy.”
If I actually talked, she would be able to tell that I'm being sarcastic. I don't
really care that she read my folder. The only thing in there is the information sheet
that has the diagnosis. My diagnosis is pretty self-explanatory anyway.
“I was just curious. I'm sorry,” she says quietly.
I start to type that I'm just kidding, but she speaks again.
“It's just that . . . Well, when patients like you come in, I like to know why they're
like that. My dad left when I was five years old, and he suffered from anger problems.
No, that's the wrong way to put it. He didn't suffer, he was more, like, overtaken
by it. It controlled what he could and couldn't do. Some things would make him so
upset, and he'd have random outbursts. And I just want to know why he left, if that
makes sense. And sometimes I think if I knew how other people with similar issues
thought and acted, it'll bring me closer to solving why he couldn't live with us
anymore. Sometimes I feel like I caused his anger, and he left because of me. I feel
like I was maybe a burden or something . . . Like, what if he hated me? And that's
why he left . . . I don't know, it's stupid, I know. But . . .”
“It's not stupid.”
She looks up from the table, where her gaze was frozen. “It's not?”
I shake my head no.
“It makes perfect sense.”
“I shouldn't have even told you that. I'm sorry. You probably don't even care.”
“Please stop being sorry.”
“SorryâOops.” She smiles a little and bites her bottom lip.
The food comes out, and we eat in silence. I think about what she told me about her
dad. It was something deep and personal. And I feel like she deserves to know a little
bit about me. Maybe it will give her hope about her dad.
Sometimes I forget that other people have problems too. I live in my own world and
think that I'm the only one who suffers.
Everyone has their own issues, no matter
how big or small. We're all people that live different lives with different troubles.
It's comforting to think that Delilah can share one of her problems with me, someone
she barely knows. Maybe she only told me because I have no one to tell. Or maybe
she's slightly drunk too.
Or maybe she just trusts me.
I didn't think anyone could ever trust me. I don't even trust me.
I put my fork down, and she looks up. I type quickly on my phone, and she appears
confused.
“I don't know if this will help,” the robotic voice says, “but I've been like this
for six months. My girlfriend died really unexpectedly. It messed me up. It turned
my life upside down. I stopped doing everything. My whole life spiraled downward
and just kept getting worse. And maybe your dad felt that way too, I don't really
know. There's no way of knowing. It could've been anything, really. I just thought
I should tell you that.”
Delilah doesn't say anything for a few seconds, and she just looks at me.
“I'm sorry about your girlfriend,” she says quietly.
“Please do not be sorry.”
She rests her head on her hand. “You know, you're turning out to be different than
what I thought,” she whispers.
“It's that stupid new pill. Making me all sentimental.”
But it's not stupid. I kind of like the way it's making me feel.
I'm starting not to feel so numb anymore.
I can actually feel a little again.
I
head to Aiden's the next morning to see how he's doing, even though he's probably
still asleep. I wonder how long he stayed at the party.
I walk into his house and see Hunter watching television. He turns around and waves.
“Hi, Delilah!” he says happily.
“Hey! Is Aiden awake?” I ask him.
He nods. “Yeah, but he's still in bed. Mom said I'm not allowed to bother him.”
I head down to Aiden's room and find him lying on his bed, his face shoved into the
pillow.
“Aiden?” I whisper.
He mumbles something and slowly rolls over. He squints at me and wiggles his fingers
in an attempt to wave.
“How long did you stay at the party?” I ask him
“I dunno. A long time. My mom almost grounded me. I lied and said I was at your house,
so if she asks, that's where I was.”
I roll my eyes and laugh.
I tell him what happened with Levi, leaving out how he had a panic attack and what
he told me about his girlfriend. Those are personal things that no one else should
know. Even though Aiden is my best friend, it's not right for me to tell him.
“So he actually, like, was nice?” Aiden asks, sitting up a little.
I nod, smiling. “Yeah, it was different from all the other times I've been around
him.”
Levi has definitely changed. I thought he would never want to be near me, let alone
have breakfast at midnight with me. He told me a secret of his, even though it wasn't
the whole story. He opened up, which was surprising. Maybe he trusts me.
“We should hang out with him sometime,” Aiden says. “Maybe he wants some cool friends
like us.”