The Pen and Book Files

May 31, 2020 They don’t flutter in my stomach. Instead, these butterflies are landing all over my body. Up and down my arms and legs, I can feel the hairs on my neck standing straight up. I don’t know how to describe the feeling. My heartbeat is speeding up, and I can’t seem to calm down at all. Every single step forward is pushed against, fought against with vigor. My breath is shaking. Each molecule of oxygen pumping into my lungs is providing little relief. What exactly is causing these butterflies, I wonder? Is it my brain, letting the fears I have run wild? Is it my genetics, my DNA, which I have no control over? I don’t know. The butterflies are feather-light, sending a lightning-fast shiver down my arms. Trying to warn myself up seems counterproductive, because the butterflies have made my hands cold. My father used to say that I was like Killer Frost because of how cold my hands were sometimes. I used to laugh at him because I didn’t think my hands were that cold. Now, I ca...

May 15, 2020 The sunlight is shining down on my face. I am still locked away, but the walls are no longer one-sided. I can now remember the feeling of hope that we’re all but forgotten about before. A feeling of infinite possibility has rolled in with the new walls, Crystal-clear. Unfortunately, those new walls don’t just allow the sunshine in. Now, the storm clouds are visible. The tension in the air makes the hair on my arms stand up every time I get a look at it. It’s thicker than I could have ever guessed, with the clouds rolling in and then past in a cycle. Clocks could not describe it so precisely. Each time that sunshine comes, sending a thousand glimmering sparkles dancing around, the clouds roll in. Instantly, the sunshine becomes nothing more than a fleeting feeling. Blocking out the clouds is impossible, because the walls allow the bad to be glimpsed, in addition to the good. It’s impossible to block out the clouds completely. They will return, and it’s impossible to thi...

May 07, 2020 All that glitters and all that shines. Tell me, what could I possibly find? I can’t find anything that glitters and shines. Just look around, and then you might just find something that glimmers. Each metallic wink is a precious memory, something positive about the world that manages to make the news and lift hearts. It certainly lifted mine. I’m desperate for human interaction in a way that I wasn’t before. I wouldn’t be able to properly explain it, even if I tried. I just want to sprinkle some glitter over the world, and help those stories of kindness and cuteness spring to light. Did you know that a homeless pit bull had her puppies in the middle of a rainstorm, but the entire family was rescued safe and sound? No, I doubt you did. Because these stories, of glimmers of hope, are being buried under the dirt. It’s getting harder and harder to see anything that glitters, because it’s impossible to know when the dirt will stop being dumped on top of the precious memori...

May 06, 2020 Who does a life belong to? Who has the right to make decisions about the future of that person’s life and their future experiences? I know that my life belongs to me. Anyone who you asked would say that, and probably recommend you to a psychiatrist on top of that. But you aren’t the only centering point for the compass. Everyone in your life is one, too. Even the smallest decision may anger someone whose opinions you rely on. There are decisions to make, every single day. The pressure is intense, crushing me. I don’t want to disappoint anyone, but I also want my life to belong to me. Without guidance, I fall apart, but I am also desperate for it. I don’t know what to do about this. What I want, what is expected. Those expectations keep me from falling apart, but I also want to know what would happen if I had control of my life. Would I be better? Would I be worse? I don’t know the answer. I want to find out why my life is going to be this. I want to find out how I ...

5/02/2020 There is a spotlight on me, but it isn’t even real. I see it as a part of my own life and my own experience, but it is nothing more than a film. When my mouth opens, nothing comes out. Sounds are trapped in my throat, blocked from freedom by a net of my own devising. I don’t know how it works, but I know that I cannot get free. When I struggle to get through, the spotlight shines brighter than before. It blinds me until I can no longer remember how it feels to think clearly. Each thought is filtered through what I can only describe as fear. I am becoming numb, and now I can’t remember which way is the right one. What if I mess up? What do I say? Words come so naturally to everyone else. Everyone is worried that this will be a problem for me, this spotlight that only falls on me. I am the only one who freezes when the spotlight comes down. I am the only one who can see it, can feel my body freezing into a statue of stone. Every molecule within my body is screaming. It want...

5/01/2020 Each of us sees the world through a lense. Call it glasses, call it a curtain over our eyes. Some people cannot process things, and thus block them out. I am one of them. I’m not going to school today, or Monday, or any other day. I will be barred from school for the rest of the year. I want those glasses more than I thought was possible. With those rose-colored glasses, perhaps my perspective would no longer be shifting so much. I don’t know what to say or do anymore. I don’t know what to think, either. My perspective keeps on sliding off the screen, so far down that I can’t see the pinprick of light that was comfort. Before, my perspective was that things couldn’t get worse. N But now? I’m no longer so sure.