What if the world ended, today?  What if it ended, before I managed to do anything worthwhile with my worthless fucking life?  What if a horrible pandemic strikes the world, causing everyone to live in constant panic and fear?  Even worse, what if a war breaks out...a war bad enough that results in a draft?  What if I get drafted...in my current state...I'll be completely useless in a war...nothing but a human fucking shield.  On top of that, it would make my pain so much fucking worse, that it's not even funny.  I could get kidnapped during wartime, tortured by the enemy troops, lose limbs or obtain some life-altering PTSD that I would have to deal with on top of my pain.  I wouldn't be able to read, anymore, either...I wouldn't be able to do anything that I enjoy and would be stuck living in constant terror, each and every day.  I can't even use my pain as an excuse not to get drafted...do they even consider Fibromyalgia a legitimate disease?  I'm pretty sure they fucking don't.  Getting diagnosed with it is fuck all useless.  What if my pain never gets better?  No, what if my pain keeps getting worse as the years go on?  There’re already some days where I genuinely feel like I'm going to die...no, scratch that...I feel that way, everyday...like I'm barely clinging to my life...like I could drop dead from the pain, at any moment.  I can keep pushing forward, mentally, but, eventually, my body is going to give up.  Then what?  I'll...be dead...just like that.  What if one day, my pain gets so bad that I can't even leave my fucking bed...who the fuck is going to take care of me?  My mom?  She's already been through enough bullshit because of me.   If that becomes the case, I'll just kill myself.  Maybe, that's what I should just do, anyways?  It's the only way to permanently make sure that I'll no longer be a burden to anyone, ever again.  It'll prevent me from having to drag others down to my level in the future as well.  Then again, if I kill myself, then I would be going to hell.  Not to say that my current life isn't hell but going from one hell to another doesn't seem like my idea of a good time.  Damn it.  These stupid fucking thoughts!  I just want them to stop.  That's all...I ever want.  Please, someone, make them stop because no matter how hard I fucking try, I never can.

I placed my hands on my face that was covered in sweat, as I laid in my bed.   I glanced over at the alarm clock that was next to me, on my night stand.  According to the time, I still had 20 minutes until I had to begin my morning.  I knew none of these stupid, anxiety filled thoughts, would leave my mind anytime soon and this pissed me off, especially because of how frequently I had to do deal with this problem.  I just wished my mind would shut the fuck up, permanently, and that I didn't have to live my entire life in constant, life-ruining anxiety. 

Why is my mind like this?  Why can't I just think normal, rationale thoughts?  Why can't I ever have some nice, positive thoughts?  Why is it always negative and gut wrenching, anxiety fueled thoughts that make me sick to my stomach?  I hate it.  I hate it so much.  

Not knowing what else to do, I used the thumb and index finger of my right hand to begin pinching a spot, on my lower stomach, that didn't have any picking sores already on it.  I lifted the skin up and held it there, feeling the nails of my thumb and index finger digging deeper and deeper into the skin I was pinching.  Unfortunately, the pain from the skin picking only managed to reduce the anxiety symptoms a tiny bit, like usual.

*

*

*

I opened the medicine cabinet in my steamy bathroom, after my shower was over.  Due to not bothering to wear a towel, I couldn't help but notice how fucked up my lower stomach looked from the picking.  My entire lower stomach was light brown in color from all of the scarring and the new pick marks, that were a result from this morning’s picking session, were bright red and would have still been bloody if I hadn’t just taken a shower.  I took the pain medication that was in the medicine cabinet of my bathroom, twisted the top off and popped the daily dose into my mouth.  I turned on the sink to get some water to help get the pills down, easier.  Next to the pain medication, I saw a variety of other pills that I used to take for my anxiety which included Klonopin, Valium and Librium.  I used to take the anxiety pills, in addition to the pain medication but stopped because they all fucked with my head too much.  I'm sure that they would ease some of my anxiety but I absolutely hated how it never felt like I was in my right mind when I took them.  I didn't have much left in my pathetic excuse for a life but one thing I did have was control over my mind.  I decided that was the one thing I didn't want to sacrifice, no matter how bad the anxiety was. 

All of the sudden, I began thinking about Makoto and wondered how she was doing at school.  It didn't take me long to come to the conclusion that she must have still been struggling.  I was talking to my work about being able to help her at the school and the good news was that it sounded like it was a legit possibility and after a few more small things were worked out, I should be good to go.  In fact, I was expecting a call, today, to let me know how all of it was going.  My goal was to start working with Makoto at the start of next week so, hopefully, Makoto could manage without me for just a little while longer. 

The phone that was on my bathroom counter vibrated and I picked it up to see who was texting me.   Of course, it was Jacob, asking if I was busy after work. The only two people that really talked to me were my mom and Jacob so whenever I got a text, it was usually from the two of them. 

Why the hell is he insistent on hanging out with me? I asked myself.  With his looks, he could have any girl that he wanted but he chooses to settle with someone with as much baggage as me.  I've already ruined enough people's lives...I don't want to ruin his.  Perhaps, I should just end things with him?

Despite wanting to end things with him, I just couldn't force myself to send the text that would accomplish just that.  Instead, I replied that we could hang out another time because I was busy after work which was a fat fucking lie and he probably knew it, immediately, upon receiving the text.  To my surprise, I instantly got a text back from Jacob.  It just had the...blowing a kiss emoji on it.  I could literally feel my face turning red at the stupid response and placed my phone back on the counter and pretended like I hadn't seen that damn corny ass text. 

*

*

*

"Alright class, the first thing that I want you to do with your construction paper is fold it, hamburger-style, like this," instructed the kindergarten teacher as she demonstrated how to fold a piece of construction paper in front of her class.

Makoto had been sitting at her school desk for what felt like an eternity and, more than anything, she wanted to sit on the comfortable carpet but she hadn't had the chance to do so since circle time.  Makoto attempted to fold her construction paper, just like the teacher had showed her but struggled to do it, correctly, multiple times, each time frustrating her more and more.

"Then, I want you all to fold the construction paper one more time like this," continued the kindergarten teacher, despite Makoto not even finishing the first step, yet.

Makoto began to panic as she looked around the classroom and noticed that the rest of the class was already caught up to the teacher and didn't seem to be struggling in the slightest.  This caused Makoto to feel embarrassed, only making her struggle even more to get the first step right.  Before she knew it, the teacher was already onto the next step.

"Now, when we open up the construction paper, the paper should be split into fourths, like this."

The kindergarten teacher showed the class what her piece of construction paper looked like.  

"Next, I would like you to use the scissors on your desk to cut out each of the squares we've just made, like this."

The teacher went on to show the kids how to cut out each of the four squares but Makoto was still stuck on the first step.  She, desperately, tried to recall how the teacher folded the construction paper.  She began humming to herself as she grew more distressed.  Luckily, after a few minutes and a ton of attempts, Makoto was, finally, able to fold the construction paper, hamburger-style.  

"Okay, so by now, you should all have your squares of construction paper cut out.  Now, I'd like you to put each square of construction paper at a corner of your desk." 

Makoto was extremely confused since she hadn't even folded the construction paper a second time, yet.  She was so far behind and had spent so much time on the first step, that she had completely forgotten what the second step even was.  She squirmed and rocked back and forth, trying to remember what the teacher said the second step was but just couldn't.  She glanced behind her at the student aide but he was too busy helping the other special needs kids get their construction papers cut out and Makoto didn't want to interrupt him, especially because she knew the other kids needed the help more than her.  She turned her attention to the teacher and debated whether or not she should ask her for help but she didn't want to bother her, either, and was ashamed at how far behind everyone she was.  Makoto also, didn't want the teacher to think she wasn't paying attention because then she would get in trouble.  

"Alright, now I'm going to pass out a paper with a bunch of shapes on it and I would like you to do your best to cut out each shape.  I know there are quite a few shapes to cut out so I will make sure to give you plenty of time to do this."  

As the teacher began passing out the paper with the shapes on it, Makoto's anxiety and guilt became even worse.  She knew the teacher was going to see how far behind she was when passing out the paper and then would get mad at her for either not listening or being too afraid to ask for help.  Not being able to contain her emotions any longer, Makoto began crying, drawing the attention of the students around her.  One of the girl students raised her hand to let the teacher know that Makoto was crying.  As Makoto cried, she realized that sitting in the uncomfortable chair was only making her feel worse so she got out of her chair and sat on the carpet, under the desk.  She crossed her legs over one another and began rocking back and forth while continuing to sob under the desk.  Makoto's eyes were closed but she could hear heavy footsteps coming towards her desk, indicating that an adult was making their way towards her which made her tears come out, even more rapidly than they already were.  

*

*

*

Everything was quiet in the special education classroom and the light was turned off as well while Makoto sat on a soft, beanbag chair, in front of a desk, that she was lying her head on.  Makoto was exhausted from all of the crying.  She was wearing noise canceling headphones on her ears since the special education teacher had claimed it would help her.  Despite doubting her at first, Makoto had to admit that it did seem to help make her feel calmer.  She liked being in the special education classroom.  There weren't as many students in it.  The teacher was more understanding and lenient with her and she just always felt more comfortable in it, in comparison to her actual one.  She wished, more than anything, that she could always be in the special education classroom and never have to return to her other one that would always cause her so much distress. 

Feeling better, Makoto lifted her head off of the table and looked around the classroom.  On one of the shelves, she saw some blank printer paper.  She got off of her beanbag chair and headed towards the shelf.  The special education teacher watched her do this, curious as to what she was doing.  Makoto picked up a sheet of printer paper and then headed to another shelf, where a pencil cup was, to pick out a pencil that had a grip on it.  She really enjoyed the grip on the pencil and wanted to tell her parents to get her one for the pencils at her house but kept forgetting.  Makoto made her way back to her seat and began dividing the paper into comic strips as the special education teacher continued to watch her.  Makoto was so wrapped up in what she was drawing and writing, that all of the terrible emotions of guilt, sadness and even embarrassment, no longer bothered her. 

*

*

*

"Things aren't getting any easier for her, huh?" I asked, sadly.

I was talking to both Minerva and Andy, before heading upstairs to start the session with Makoto.  The two parents were talking to me about how Makoto had still been struggling quite bit at school and what had happened at school, today.  Apparently, Makoto had another crying episode at school which was a very common occurrence since she started.  I knew that crying was her main source of stress relief...it was, essentially, her version of a tantrum or a meltdown.  She, honestly, didn't have too many with me and when she did have a crying episode during session, I was usually able to calm her down relatively fast.  The latest crying episode was because she fell behind on an arts and crafts project and had difficulty trying to mand...or ask for help.  Manding for what she needed was actually one of the programs that I ran with her during session and, to be honest, it was still a program that gave her a lot of problems, so this didn't surprise me too much.  I believed that this had to do with Makoto being scared of asking questions because she didn't want to inconvenience people or draw more attention to herself.  This wasn't too uncommon with kiddos with autism since a large number of them did like to keep to themselves...hell, I was no different in that regard.

"Yeah, Makoto's been having a really tough time adjusting to the classroom setting I feel like and the aide is too busy with the other special needs children to give her the extra support she needs," Andy explained.  "I was told that the school was a bit understaffed in regards to student aides on the first day of school which contradicted what Minerva and I were told when we enrolled her.  Still, I thought one aide would be enough for her.  T-This is my fault. I should have realized this would be a problem, immediately, and done something about it. 

Andy blaming himself proved to me how much he cared about Makoto, as a parent, and this did bring a rare, genuine smile to my face.

"None of this is your fault, at all," I said, comfortingly.  "The school should have told you ahead of time that they were understaffed when it came to aides, instead of telling you last minute.  The school system can be a...stressful thing."

"This is why we both are so grateful that Makoto has you," added Minerva.  "You always understand her and her problems so well and it's obvious that you genuinely care about her as much as we do.  You're so awesome with Makoto here at the house so we just know she would get so much benefit from you being with her at the school.  We’re aware that it's a bit out of your control, though.  The last thing we want to do is pressure you."

I had to force myself not to get awkward, after receiving such high praise from Minerva. 

"Oh, not at all.  I feel the same exact way.  Plus, she's been doing great during the at-home sessions, lately, and I definitely think she needs me way more at the school.  Actually, I do have some good news for the two of you.  I just got done talking to my work, before coming here, and everything finally seems to be good to go on their end and I should be able to start working with Makoto at the school, beginning next Monday."

It was already Thursday night so that just meant Makoto had to get through one more full day of school without me which, hopefully, wouldn't be too hard for her.  Andy and Minerva both seemed thrilled by my news.

"That's so great to hear," said Andy.  "Thank you so much for talking to your work about this.  I'm sure that it's going to make Makoto feel so much better, knowing that you're going to be at the school with her."  

"Yeah, I really hope so," I replied, trying my best to smile.  

"Oh, there is one more thing before you start session with her," claimed Minerva as she went to the kitchen to get something for me.

After a couple of seconds had passed, she returned with a piece of white printer paper that had been turned into a page of a comic book.  

"The special education teacher told me through the phone that Makoto made this when she was taken to her classroom to calm down during her crying episode," explained Minerva.  "Apparently, she noticed Makoto seemed so much calmer and at ease when she was working on it."

"Hm, well it does seem like working on her comic books is a large source of release for her," I said as I took the printer paper from Minerva to get a better look at it.  "She does it a lot when she gets stressed here at the house as well.  I wonder...does she have anything to write in at school...like if she needs a break from the classwork?" 

The parents thought together in unison and shook their heads, no.

"Do you think that would help her?" asked Minerva.

"Sometimes, these kiddos get a tad overwhelmed and small breaks here and there can really help them reset a bit.  Some kids read a book.  Some kids play computer games.  In Makoto's case, I think her working on her comic books might be the perfect option for a break.  Since she enjoys the comic book format...at least for now, you could buy her like a little sketchbook that she can take with her to school so that she has something to work in."

"Oh, that's a fantastic idea," praised Andy.  "The weekend is coming up so I can go shopping with her for one; she needs practice being out and about, anyways.  Plus, if you'll be starting with her next Monday, you can help remind her about taking a break when she's overly stressed because I know she might forget."

"Yep, I think that would be perfect," I concluded.  "I'm guessing Makoto is upstairs?"

"Yeah, she was pretty quiet when I picked her up from school," Minerva said, sadly.  "I think she's just lying on the carpet up there, resting...or...thinking...I'm not too sure what she does."

"Well, hopefully, after I tell her the good news, she'll be in a little higher of spirits," I responded, optimistically.

*

*

*

Upon entering Makoto's room, I was greeted to nothing but pure darkness since the lights were off.  I could see Makoto lying on the carpet, resting, just like her mother thought she would be.  She scratched her back, lightly, showing me that she wasn't asleep.  Still, I didn't want to turn on the lights until she was a bit more energized.  Plus, the lights being off was most likely helping her feel better.  I made my way over to Makoto and she craned her neck to see, who was in her room.  When she saw that it was me, she forced herself to sit up as I took a seat, right next to her, with my iPad in my lap.

"Hey, Makoto," I greeted, smiling.

"H-Hello, Ms. Yuuki," she returned, tiredly.

Not only did she return my greeting, she also, pronounced my name, correctly.  All while being in a sad state of mind.  She really had come a long way and I couldn't deny the feeling of pride I began to feel in regards to this. 

"That was a very good greeting, Makoto," I praised, smiling.  "Your speech is getting so much better too.  I'm kind of glad I'm no longer Ms. Yucky."  

Despite my praise, the sorrowful look of contemplation didn't leave Makoto's face.  

"I heard you had another rough day at school," I said, causing Makoto to begin biting her lip, upon hearing the mention of the place that was causing her so much distress.  

"I...feel...bad...for crying so much," she admitted, once she was finished biting her lip.  

"There's nothing wrong with crying, Makoto," I comforted.  "Crying is a great way to relieve stress.  I should probably cry more...it'd be a lot healthier than some of the ways I deal with stress."

Crying.  Being a crybaby.  There was nothing worse for drawing more attention to yourself than that.  I knew, firsthand, how much worse it made things.  Which made it all the more heartbreaking to know that Makoto was going through it too.

"I got some good news, though...or, hopefully, you'll think it's good news."

Makoto stared at me, expectantly.  

"Starting next Monday, I'll be with you at school for the whole day to give you any help that you need," I said.

I wasn't sure how Makoto was going to react to this but, even then, I was surprised with the one she gave me.  She immediately perked up and hugged me, tightly, a rarity for her.  Hugs were something that I always struggled with receiving and giving but I didn't want Makoto to feel like I didn't like her hug so I forced myself to replicate the action.

"T-Thank you...Ms. Yuuki," the small girl said, as her hug grew a little tighter.  

Even though I hated to admit it, the hug did make me feel...something...a...warmness that I hadn't felt in a very long time.  I was such a failure at just about everything in life but...for once, I didn't completely feel like one and it was all thanks to Makoto.  Perhaps, I needed her just as much as she needed me.