"Failure", "useless", and "waste of space", are common words people have used to describe me, and on shittier days, I've used myself.
I tilt my head down and start switching through apps and notifications on my phone, trying my best to slow the beating in my heart. I've always struggled with anxiety, though it usually flares up whenever I'm in public. My mind always gets bombarded with thoughts about people looking at me, wondering how I look, and me wishing to just disappear, even something that I've done a hundred times before like taking the train back home doesn't stop this feeling. I start applying pressure to my neck, wrists, and thighs with my nails, making sure nobody is watching this bizarre ritual. At this point, it's become second-nature for me to turn to pain whenever I get anxious. I look out the window and notice how dark it's already gotten, "at least the first semester is over". I've never been the best student and wouldn't ever describe myself as "studious" and combined with my other issues, I've never really had any fond memories of school in general. If my school life could be summed up with a phrase it'd be "below-average", whether that stems to my lack of friends, grades, social life, or my non-existent extracurriculars. It seems that I'm always lacking when compared to others, and truthfully speaking, I am.
Exiting the station, I make my way down the road to my house, and much to my dismay I meet Luke, to his peers and classmates he's considered smart, charming, intelligent, and on the path to excellence. To me, he's a problem I have to deal with daily, a bully. His usual forms of torment include grabbing my ass, commenting on my body, or just full-on beating me. Luckily for me today it just ended with a lighter beating than usual, unlike me he probably has something to look forward to now that the first semester is over.
Arriving home I head to the bathroom and examine the bruises on my body left by Luke. Not bothering to speak to my family, I head straight to my room. My room's been the one constant in my life, a place I can always turn to to get away from it all. The only thing I can't get away from is myself, thoughts and compulsions start swarming in my head and I start my ritual over and over again in hopes of making them stop and eventually drift to sleep, OCD is a bitch.