Know Your Worth

18

I woke up the next morning, groggy and in a horrendous mood. Remembering the events of yesterday was not pleasant, and it ruined my mood for the first half of the day. Frankly, I wanted to go back to sleep again and escape reality. 

Being conscious sucked big time. 

Kayla greeted me with a chirpy "Good morning!" and it rubbed me off the wrong way. It was illogical to be vexed with someone as unproblematic and mellow as her, but seeing anyone who was happy annoyed my unhappy ass even further that morning. 

My holidays were off to a not-so-good start, and I lacked the motivation to get ready for the day or to even get breakfast regardless of my stomach grumbling loudly. I didn't even feel like brushing my teeth. 

The thought of me being unhygienic, giving up on life, and being disgusting was revolting, but there was a lot of energy that needed to be mustered in order to make it to the shared bathroom to brush my teeth. 

At this point, after experiencing multiple depressive episodes and depressed phases, I had no idea if this genuinely was a depressive episode or just a temporary feeling that made me feel a little down. 

After tossing in bed for fifty minutes, I slowly got up and then started my morning ritual. Lighting my small scented candle made me feel a little bit productive. Showering felt like such a huge deal and doing my hair finally lifted my spirits up. 

I wore an all-black outfit, covering my entire body with a shapeless black sweater and loose black joggers. I didn't want to see my torso or the rolls of fat. I didn't need to see it at all.

Sometimes, I had the weirdest desire to not have a physical body to inhabit. I wanted to be like smoke, or like a ghost with no weight, simply floating around and scaring people for fun. That would be cool. 

I wanted to go to the library and read a romance book, curled up in a jiggly beanbag at the corner of the library lounge, and stare out at the window. 

I did exactly just that, and it felt glorious. I found and read three books by Nalini Singh, and sighed and swooned at her hot male leads. 

If only fictional men were real. I was such a diehard simp for them and I was not ashamed of it. Men written by women were superior in every way to normal guys. 

I texted Sam for a while and agreed to meet up with her later that day for lunch. The thought of food felt icky to me, but I needed the sustenance. Food had nutrition, not just calories, like how the people at rehab used to preach about. 

The air-conditioner was blasting at such cool speeds and after some time, my nose started to get blocked and my hands felt a chill numb when I flexed my fingers. 

I left and grabbed my small tote bag that I'd gotten for free from spending forty dollars at Walmart. Needless to say, I got attached to it and I might actually cry if I ever lost it or had to throw it away. 

I couldn't help but get attached too easily to people and things. Sentimentality was a huge weakness of mine. I barnacled onto stuff and refused to let go. My mother used to make fun of me for that, and I would bristle and get defensive. Thinking about my mom made me miss her again, and I sent her a quick text, asking her how she was doing. 

Sam was having lunch at this Italian restaurant called Giovanni, and it looked fancy. I worried if the price was beyond my means. 

Still, it felt rude to refuse and I went in, determined to order the cheapest thing off the menu if the meals really were a ripoff. 

Sam grinned from ear to ear when she saw me, and I felt a jolt because Theo and his friend, Damien if I remembered correctly, were sitting with her. 

Suddenly lunch seemed really exciting, and I cursed myself. He's just a boy, for Pete's sake!