Beautiful, Grey World (Trillie)

2

Tuesday, February 7th

"Cause this is one of my lies
And all I wanna do get real high
Cause thi-" 

I shut off my alarm as quickly as I could. I hated it so fucking much, but it was effective. It was an old recording of me singing a song I had written, and at the time I thought it was a masterpiece. But present me thinks that the song is stupid and that the chorus is just... not good. 

I got out of bed, almost falling out of it due to my legs being caught in the covers. Thats fine. Dying would be better than going to work. Unless the afterlife doesn't have coffee. If it doesn't, then I'm fucking screwed. 

Speaking of coffee, I walked to my kitchen, coffee maker ready to give me my daily dose of caffeine. I sat down on my couch, slumping over immediately. I am not a morning person. 

The TV in front of me wasn't on, and the reflective screen showed me how bad I looked. My black hair was flat against my head, making me grimace. When my hair looks like that, I look even worse than I do normally. I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to fluff it up. It didn't work, making me groan. Other than my hair, my eyes had bags underneath them, but that was normal. I could just cover it up with makeup. Uh, what else. I look like I just woke up, which is accurate. 

I finished my coffee, which made me feel a little more awake. I took a quick shower, brushed my teeth, and did not brush my hair. It looks better like that, I think. Its the one thing that I actually like about myself, and I won't let anyone tell me otherwise. 

I looked through my medicine cabinet, searching for my anxiety meds. Unfortunately, most of the bottles look the same-doesn't help that they're all black, white, and grey-and the labels are almost all faded away. The bottle is normally on my sink, but I guess I must've put it away last night. Guess I'll go without it. I'll be fine. I'll be fine. I think to myself. Maybe I'll be fine. I don't know. I don't think I will. 

I rushed out of the bathroom, wanting to go to work. I always buy two bottles of medicine, one for home and one for work, since those are the only two places I really go. It helps that I'm good friends with Adie, so she keeps it in her office. If I go to work and tell her I couldn't find my meds, she'll get the ones out of her office and get me a glass of water as well. Then when she makes sure I'm okay, she'll give me a hug. Adie's really nice. I wish she was my soulmate, it would be nice being with her. Although dating your boss probably isn't the best idea. 

I grabbed my keys off of the coffee table before going outside. I tried to focus on my breathing and not the people in the city, but breathing tricks don't work that well for me. All I can really do is not think about how crowded California is, about how there's so many people around right now, about how even glancing up a bit could change my life for better or worse, about-

No. No. Stop that. Don't think about that. You're still in your house. Everything's fine. Just walk to work, get your stupid capsules, stay there until shift is over. Your fine. I can keep myself steady by telling myself I'm fine. I am. I'm not outside yet. If I want to, I can call Adrienne. But I won't. I can prove that I won't let my disorder get the better of me. I think. 

I cautiously opened my front door, keeping my eyes to the ground. I can do this. I won't have a panic attack. I will be okay. My hands go to my pockets, clutching my keys in my left. Just in case they would somehow fall out. But, considering how shaky my hands were, they probably would've still fell out. I was glad I was walking. Couldn't drive in that state.

Days like today made me happy that I'm short. I can keep my head up a little and can tell if someone's about to walk into me without looking at their face. Its cool. Today, there weren't a lot of people, which helped me calm down a little. No one wants to willingly be outside at 7 am on a Tuesday.