Chapter Three: What It Takes To Feel Okay

Marcus wasn't a bad person. But he felt like one sometimes. Right now he felt like a very bad person, not worthy of talking to anyone. He felt like he was boring and annoying and that quite possibly there wasn't a single person in the world who actually liked him. Marcus was wrong, and on some level he knew he was wrong, but today his worries were getting the better of him.

He paced around his kitchen because when he tried to sit his body felt like it was full of electricity and lead, and he felt all the strain of internally trying to reconcile those feelings. His laptop sat on his kitchen table. He could've done this in his beadroom, but he knew the cramped, overly-familiar space would only make him feel worse.

The blinds were open and outside Marcus could glipse the light of a very pleasant day. He hadn't been outside for a while, maybe too long. He thought about maybe going outside today, going for a walk and taking in the bright sunshine, but his brain was very specific in labeling it a "later" kind of thing. The kind of later that didn't usually end up happening.

But he was avoiding the matter at hand. His laptop stared at him from the kitchen table. The email was already written, he just needed to hit "send". And he knew that, he'd known that for thirty minutes now. But he remembered how much his hands were shaking before, his fingers shaking while he typed out the email, how the cursor shook when he waved it over the "send" button. That shaking was what scared him, trapped him in his own body, his own mind. The physical manifestation of a problem that was created entirely from his own thoughts, becoming all too real as he felt himself shake.

He forced himself into the kitchen chair. It took all the effort he had not to revise the email for the fifth time. He knew it wasn't perfect, but he also knew that didn't matter.

His hand shook again, more this time. Marcus felt sick. Actually, he'd been feeling sick all day. He moved the cursor a bit, then more. It hovered over "send" again.

He clicked, and it was sent. He didn't know what the reply would be, but he knew he'd be fretting about it all day, maybe all week. This is what he needed to do though. His hands still shook, his stomache still spun, but he knew, this is what it takes to feel okay.

To be continued...