“Nichole, what comes after F natural?” the teacher asks.
My heart rate goes up like the girls confidence with there iPhone X, with the most prettiest outfits that look like a million dollars worth.
My ears start ringing like everybody is just screaming at me.
My hands become the ocean.
My head doesn’t know what to do, my head tells me you are wrong and stupid.
Dont answer you dont know it’s right.
I become light headed and it feels like I can’t even speak words.
I make more of an embarsment of myself more than answering the question.
I stutter for words I don’t have the possibility to just speak naturally.
They know that I’ve given given up when my head is down.
They know I’ve given up after i can’t stop
fi-t-til-ing with ny hands.They know I’ve given up when I become red.
They know me as a mess and maybe even stupid.
I cant flow like ribbons.
I can’t be normal.
“I-um-I ddont kn-ow”
I do but i can’t say it.
“You don’t know, okay Karis?”
“G” she says.
Dang it, I knew that was the answer.
“Correct”
Journalistic Writing
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This embodies exactly what it’s like to have anxiety. If I get called on, I’ll usually try and say something, but if they want us to raise our hands, and even if I’m 100% sure I have something intelligent to say, I just can’t bring myself to participate. It’s awful.