RED SELF. i always have to find things out for myself. it's not that i don't believe what people say, but i have to experience it firsthand to be satisfied. i collect feelings. and now i understand.

it's worse than i expected. i can handle physical discomfort, and so far i've avoided that part. but this anxiety is torture. i can't tell how much of it is just from school, so i don't really know... but i had to come home early today. i was sitting in the library in the hour between classes, shivering and staring at the wall. unable to get the reading to make a copy of it, unable to do anything else, too anxious to wait for class to start or go to class or stay in the library any longer.

i had to get out of there and come home. home is a comfort. no one looking at me. warm. safe. as soon as i decided to go home some of the anxiety lifted. i walked fast to the bus stop and huddled in the cold. on the bus i fought nausea as the pit in my stomach grew heavier. i came home and lay in bed under the covers, eating cereal and reading the paper. then i fell asleep for a while.

this time there was no one under the bridge so we walked along the park. c. always knows who to ask. "you guys aren't cops, are you?" he made us show him our arms.