Right now, I am sitting in the library drinking a frozen raspberry tea amidst the bookshelves lined with old literature. I can see John Milton’s works in front of me, which means that all I can think of is Paradise Lost. It’s pretty quiet in here. There is only one other person in the building. Of course, who would be in the library on a Friday night? I think I wanted to be the answer to my own question.
Two nights ago, anxiety stole my sleep. It’s a terrifying feeling, really. There was a balloon in my chest that grew larger with each breath I took until I was afraid to breathe. I don’t know who put it there. Maybe it was me.
I turned 20 yesterday. Normally, my birthdays come and go, and I fail to pay much attention to them or feel any different afterward, but yesterday was different. Yesterday, I felt more loved than I ever have before; maybe that is why I feel a sense of peace today.
Yesterday, I received cards that made me cry, gifts that made me smile, and reminders of my value that grounded my humility. For the first time in a long time, my anxiety faded away; today, it’s nonexistent. Yet, I fear that the high won’t last long; that it won’t last until morning; that the sunset will soon be covered by the clouds. I’ll take it as a warning.
Yesterday, I walked into a room decorated with streamers and balloons, a cupcake made from scratch, and two of my dearest friends. I felt unworthy of the attention, but my joy stifled that natural reaction. For the rest of the evening, I smiled. I laughed. I think I even danced a few times. All of my self-doubt faded away: I had finally allowed myself to believe that I mean something—that I’m valued.
Before I fell asleep, I popped one balloon that was taped to my desk. It took a few attempts, and when it finally gave way, the noise made me jump and give out a little shriek. I threw the pieces in the trash…I threw the pieces in the trash.
Yesterday, I feel asleep listening to Neil Young’s “Sugar Mountain.” He was right: “Oh, to live on Sugar Mountain with the barkers and the colored balloons. You can't be twenty on Sugar Mountain.” Today, I realized that I don’t want to.
