October 13th, 2011
An Epiphany of Sorts
When I was younger, I was shy. I had a formed a shell around myself that protected me from any sort of negative feelings that tried to come in. The shell protected, but also imprisoned. It imprisoned me from experiencing life to the fullest and being happy with who I am. One night, a few years ago, I learned a life lesson that I would remember every time irrational anxiety entered my conscious.
“Come on, drink something!” my friend said to me. It was embarrassing being the only guest at the party that hadn’t drunk anything, so I let him make me a drink and took it awkwardly. The other people, which consisted of kids from my class and some kids that were older and out of high school, gave me weird looks and didn’t speak to me much. We all listened to the music that the host of the party provided. Some people were dancing; some were kissing, and some couples left to do whatever they were doing.
I met some kids there from my class that I knew only on an acquaintance basis. We talked and became better friends, but it was still awkward. I was sick of the awkward person I was. I wanted to change, but couldn’t bring myself to it. The life I was living was boring, and I was doomed to be a prisoner of my anxiety for as long as I lived. I followed my friends outside, where there were chairs around a table and people to fill them. Luckily, there were enough chairs to fit my friends and I. The people sitting around were talking, and drunk. They were telling stories of how they’d seen every drug ever imagined. There was talk of people who died from doing hard drugs, and people that had the time of their life on drugs with no repercussions. There was the one guy that smoked pot ever since he was thirteen, and probably still did. I wasn’t going to ask. The main ones that contributed to the conversation were the drunkest, and it showed. Slurred words and vague sentences told about how there...