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START.
Wesley barely unpacked any of his clothing, knowing it was only going to be now one day at the hotel before he was moved into Roswell, the boarding school from hell.
He tried to look at it in a better light, but he couldn't make himself think that way. His parents cared so much to send him somewhere to get the help he needed, but he hated it. Wes was out of his comfort zone and it made him uneasy, anxious, and scared.
Wesley hated this feeling, it's mid-semester and he's joining a school he's never been to, in a country he's never been in. He closed his eyes, trying to calm the nerves, but it felt like his heart was pounding out of his chest.
It took a quick moment to realize he was now having a panic attack due to his own overthinking. He slide down the wall, near the bed, grabbing his phone that was on the nightstand, with shaky hands, he dialed his mother's number.
"Hey, curly fry." His mother said, instead of a reply it was silent, "oh no, Wes, are you okay? It's going to be okay. I just need you to relax, okay? Focus on my voice, nothing else. It will be okay. You're going to be okay. You know that right? You are, it might be scary, but you're strong. So strong, relax a bit." She spoke, softly, hearing Wes taking deep breaths, making her feel relief.
After a moment, she spoke again, "See, you're okay. You just get into your head and think of everything that could wrong, but it won't Wes. Nothing will go wrong, every time you think everything will go wrong, it doesn't. Don't spend so much time in your head." She said.
"Yeah, yeah, you're right," Wesley finally spoke, "I'm sorry for calling you so late."
She laughed, "we have a timezone difference, it's still mid-afternoon for me, you should be heading to bed soon, yeah?"
"Okay," Wesley spoke.
"Remember you'll have a guide for tomorrow, who will help you learn the school, don't worry too much! Get some rest for tomorrow." His mother said, "goodnight, love you!"
"Love you too," Wesley replied hanging up his phone and placing it back nightstand as he remained on the floor, leaning his head back and resting against the wall.
He sat for a moment, collecting his thoughts. His mom was right, he did need to stop overthinking, yet he was still struggling to do so. Wesley's whole life was based on his overthinking, the what-ifs that kept him up, that ruined friendships and relationships.
Wes's thoughts made him think that everyone in his own life was tired of him, leading to the constant need for reassurance, which not many were able to provide. He hated how he would overthink a small text, a minor inconvenience, or just something as small as someone not texting him back right away.
