found a piece from 2010

I roll over, pulling the sheets towards me. I bury my face in the comforter, breathing deeply, suffocating slowly. I begin to panic. They know, they know, they have to fucking know. This is it. I will never be the same. I cannot overcome this. I will not, cannot, ever face them again. I’m fucking stoned. Totally blazed. I guess there’s a first time for everything. I drag in another breath. Another. Another. It’s not helping. Nothing will help. I’m going crazy. I’m trapped in my head. Smothered, strangled, possessed by thoughts I’ve never before considered. I’m surrounded by people. They’re taking all of the oxygen out of the room. Inhaling, and using that breath to bash, bash, bash me and all of the wrong decisions I’ve made. I want to cry. I’m so sorry. I want to beg for their forgiveness. This is anxiety. This is an all-consuming attack of paranoia. I try and tell myself this. Katy, please. Please calm down. I try to rationalize with myself. Katy, these are your friends. They get high every day. No one cares. No one is judging. But I know they are. I know what they’re thinking. I’m a disgrace. I’ve worked so hard all my life. Straight A’s, top of my class, a good girl. This is what I’ve become. I clutch the blanket between my fingers tightly. They’re beginning to cramp. The stress is eating me inside and out. Suddenly, I feel someone lay down. I curl up and close my eyes. Please go away, please, please. I silently beg them, beseeching whoever this is not to blatantly tell me how fucked my life is, how fucked my mind is. “Katy,” Blake breathes. Oh, God. Blake. Blake can fix this. I flip over, and peek my head out of my fortress, testing the waters. “Katy, what’s wrong?” He looks sad. But he also looks high as hell. “I don’t know what to do.” I whisper. He leans over and lifts the blanket so he can lay beneath it next to me. I suddenly feel scared. Violated. It doesn’t even make sense. This is his bed, his house. But I’m still so irrationally, ridiculously scared. He kisses me on the forehead and I lean into him, breathing deeply. I can breathe normally again. Blake, my sanity. “Can you feel it?” he says softly, a gentle smile on his lips. Suddenly I’m angry. This was his idea. He knows how I am. He knows I can’t even live a normal life without being constantly stressed. He knows I’ve been to psychiatrists, to psychologists, to anyone who I hoped could explain why I can’t just live, and live fully, and live happily. He knows all of this, and he decides that it’s a good idea for me to smoke some fucking weed? “You didn’t tell me it would be like this!” I hiss, and I immediately know he’s surprised. He leans back and says, “You don’t like it?” I look up. I see Madeline, sitting in Collin’s lap, giggling quietly. I see Pinky leaning against the wall, his eyes half closed. I see Payton blasting music from Blake’s computer. Of course it’s Elliot Smith. Of course it’s something depressing. I hate Elliot Smith, I suddenly think to myself. This is bullshit. I hear Christian yelling at Payton. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re seriously gonna put on some of this depressing shit right now?” He rolls his eyes. Thank God for Christian. “Hey, dude, fuck you,” Payton says, turning the volume up. I groan. “Katy, seriously, are you okay?” Blake says, smoothing my hair away from my face. His eyes are red, the lids swollen around his dilated pupils. “No. You didn’t warn me at all. You said this would be fun.” My eyes pool with tears. He must hate me. Who else would react this way? Only me. Only I would become more stressed out because of weed. “I didn’t think I needed to…warn you…I don’t understand what you mean.” He says, genuinely concerned. “Blake, I’m freaking out. I’m seriously panicking.” I tug on his shirt so he leans in, our foreheads touching. “Please help me,” I beg quietly. “Katy…what can I do? You just need to calm down, go with it. Just enjoy it.” He’s suddenly exasperated. I’m ruining his night, I know it. I pout and put my hands under his shirt, running my fingers up his back. I just want to lay here with him forever. This has to end eventually. I need him, and I need to know he loves me. “I’m sorry,” I say quietly. He kisses me lightly on the lips. “Don’t be sorry. Just try and have a good time.” He runs his thumb over my lips, and lifts the blanket, sliding out. “Blake,” I whimper, needing him next to me. Needing him to tell me he can make everything better. “Please, Katy, I’m just going outside to toke a little. You’ll be fine. You’ve been here a million times, with the same people, doing the same thing. Just…chill.” He says, really believing it’s that simple. “Fine,” I snap, and roll over, tugging the blanket back over my head as the tears start rolling down my cheeks. Maybe I’m just high maintenance, but I hate when he leaves me alone when he knows all I want is him. My cheeks flame with rejection. “I just want to cuddle,” I whisper. He leans down and kisses my cheek softly. “Baby, it’s a party. I can’t just ignore everyone.” And I know it’s a copout. He just wants to enjoy himself without babysitting me. So I just sigh and nod my head slightly, feeling the sting of tears on my face. Shit, I’ve probably got mascara running down my face now. Fucking great. I dig my nails into my wrist as Blake leaves, walking out the door and probably into the garage. I hear JT, Zac, and JP messing around, playing music. Mixed with the whine of Payton’s iPod, I can’t handle it, and my pulse starts to race. cutcutcutcutcutcutcutcutcutcutcut I think desperately, rapidly. I want to get a pencil and drag it across my wrist. I feel like complete shit and I’m bringing everyone else down with me. I lift my hand and slam it against the wall that the bed is next to. It gets quiet. I hear Madeline whisper, “Is Katy okay?” I withdraw my hand and curl up into a ball, my hands in my hair. I pull on my short pixie cut, tugging to the point of pain. I whimper to myself, completely at a loss. How do you stop yourself from going insane? Can I be insane if I’m aware of it? What the FUCK is going on? I close my eyes, and focus on breathing. In. Out. In. Out. And finally, finally, I escape. I find peace the only way I can: sleep.