Do you ever look at yourself in the mirror and think, “What’s wrong with me?”

I do that a lot. Not just because I hate myself. I genuinely want to know why people don’t like me. Is it because I’m awkward? Is it because I don’t talk a lot? Is it because I’m ugly and fat? Or is it a mix of all three?

Those were my thoughts as I lay in bed, pondering all of my life choices. I had woken up long before my alarm clock went off, and then I realized that I couldn’t go back to sleep. This happened a lot, but on that specific day, I just couldn’t think of the reason why my brain rudely decided to wake me up. So instead, I glanced around my somewhat tidy room. The early morning sunlight was flooding across my fluffy white rug, and I could hear the family of robins chirping outside of my window. The peaceful atmosphere helped me concentrate. My brain went in circles for a few moments before it hit me.

“Opening night,” I muttered. “Tonight’s opening night!” Ew. I hated listening to my own voice. It sounded ugly and slurred compared to the light, musical voices of my classmates.

I glanced at my alarm clock, trying not to think about that. It was only 6:24, but I was already awake and restless. I felt an array of emotions all at once. Fear. Excitement. Happiness. And lots of anxiety.

Okay, Jade, I told myself. Get ready for school. Read a book. Eat. Whatever. Just don’t think about the show. Ready? Go.

Openingnightopeningnightopeningnightopeningnightopeningnightopeningnight, my brain responded.

I closed my eyes and let out a groan. Okay. Fine. Think about the show. But don’t put yourself down. Ready? Go.

I’ll do so badly I’ll embarrass myself in front of everyone and they will all laugh at me and my castmates will be so disappointmented and humiliated because I will be the only one to mess up and it will be all my fault if I screw up so I better not screw up --

I turned over so that my face was in my pillow, fruitlessly trying to shut my thoughts out of my head. “Okay. Get ready for school,” I said aloud, my voice muffled by the pillow. “Now.”

I pulled myself out of bed and trudged to the mirror. I saw a pair of blue-green eyes staring back at me, framed by a mane of ugly brown hair. I hated my hair. Actually, I hated everything about myself. Especially my body. If I could change anything about my body, it would be my weight. I wish that I could lo--

Shut up, I told myself, walking away from the mirror. Before leaving the room, I stopped at my desk to make sure I didn’t leave any of my homework there. The idea of having to tell a teacher that I forgot my homework made me want to cry.

I surveyed the white, tidy surface, getting some satisfaction from its smooth, pearly shine. I glanced at my bulletin board that hung above my desk.

Opening night today, 6pm, I read to myself. I felt butterflies in my stomach, but I ignored it and walked out of the room. I didn’t need a panic attack right before the show.

What am I talking about? I won’t get a panic attack, I tried to assure myself.

… Right?

***

“Oh my God, I’m so excited!”

“Same!”

“I got my tickets, what about you?”

“I’m getting them right after school!”

School was a nightmare that day. Not because of the classes, but because everywhere I went, people were talking about the show. I tried to stop my thoughts from wandering towards darker places. But I couldn’t.

I’m going to suck, I told myself.

Stop it, I said.

I’m going to have a huge voice crack and everybody will laugh and remember it for the rest of their lives or even worse I’ll trip and fall and rip my costume and people will definitely remember that for the rest of their--

Shut up, I sternly told myself.

I was sitting at my seat, doing my science assignment. Well, I was trying to. It was more of me staring blankly at the periodic table that hung above the whiteboard, then looking at the shelves of books and lab equipment on the walls. That was when those thoughts began to mercilessly bombard me. I decided to stare at my computer screen instead, trying to focus on the assignment. I needed to finish it before it became homework. I had my show that day. I didn’t need any more homework.

The bell rang before I finished the last problem.

Okay, not too bad, I told myself nervously. Just a problem left. That’s not a lot of work.

I’m going to be exhausted and I won’t be able to finish it and my teacher will be so disappointed and angry with me, my brain responded.

I tried to contain my rapidly increasing anxiety. I needed to contain it, or else I wouldn’t be able to do anything right. I couldn’t afford to get even more homework, and I definitely didn’t want to mess up in front of the whole auditorium.

“Hey, Jade,” someone said. I stiffened and closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath before turning around. It was Jayden. I couldn’t help but feel sad as I saw her silky brown hair. It framed her hazel eyes so well, she looked like a doll. Not one of those fake Barbies, though. The beautiful ones with the perfect body and nice clothes. The ones that looked like they didn’t have a care in the world.

“Hi,” I replied, hoping that it sounded normal. Please, please, please don’t make this awkward, I begged myself.

“Are you excited for tonight? You’ll do great,” she said, flashing me a smile. I noticed that her teeth were white and perfect, and I marveled at the fact that she could show her teeth when she smiled. I couldn’t bear to show my teeth, ever since that time in fifth grade when a classmate told me that they were extremely crooked. I knew that, of course, but before that incident, I tried telling myself that people wouldn’t care. I was wrong, of course. People judged me all the time.

“Yeah, I am!” I smiled back, but it felt forced and awkward. Jayden nodded, her eyebrows drawing together in a slight grimace. I didn’t know if it was just an involuntary reaction, or if she actually didn’t want to be talking to me. I decided on the latter because I knew it was true.

We stood there for a moment, but to me, it felt like ten hours. Start a conversation, I told myself. But I couldn’t. I didn’t have anything to say. I had no fun stories to tell. I didn’t know the latest trends. I didn’t have Netflix. Heck, I hardly knew the weather forecast for that day, much less the latest gossip.

“Right. Bye,” Jayden said, glancing back at her friends. I could tell that she wanted to get out of the room as soon as possible. Then she could laugh about me with her group of girls. I couldn’t blame her. I was awkward as hell. I couldn’t even carry out a ten-second conversation!

“Bye,” I said, hoping that my voice wasn’t strained. Jayden turned and quickly walked towards her friends. I could have been imagining it, but I swore that I saw her roll her eyes. I tried brushing it off, but my mind was weighed down by the sharp, unwelcome thoughts. As I walked down the hall, I started to get more and more self-conscious. I’m so ugly and worthless. People are judging me right now. Is that girl staring at me? Why is that girl staring at me? Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.

I closed my eyes, sighed, and made my way towards my locker.

As I was walking to the cafeteria with my best friend, Cara, I overheard a couple of girls laughing and talking together. One of the girls brought up the show.

“Oh. My. God. Tonight’s opening night!” one of them squealed.

“I know, right! I’m going to all of their shows!” another one shrieked.

“Guys, wish me luck!” another girl said. The other girls did not hesitate to shower her with hugs and screams of “You’ll do amazing!” and “You’ll rock it!”

I took in a deep breath and tried to hold it. I couldn’t have another panic attack at school. The last time I had one was when I was in sixth grade, and I knew that everyone judged me for that. Or at least remembered.

I will not have a panic attack, I told myself. I will not.

Cara elbowed me hard, forcefully interrupting my thoughts. “I’ll see you before the show. I’m helping with the costumes, you know.” She grinned, showing off her perfect teeth. “You’ll do great. I know you will.”

“Ha. Thanks,” I replied weakly. I wasn’t really listening to her. I was more focused on the show. All of the bad things that would happen to me, and the embarrassment that would follow. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Time flew by, and I still had not done anything productive. The next thing I knew, the bell had rung and the school day was over. I had three hours to get ready.

I was at home. I was trying to do my homework. I could not concentrate. Letters floated off the page. Two hours left.

I was eating. I didn’t know what it was. I could hardly taste it. My heartbeat was like that of a rabbit. One hour.

I was getting dressed. Tights. Shoes. Hair. Makeup. Done. Thirty minutes left.

I was walking out of the door. My shoes pounded the sidewalk. It was almost as loud as my heartbeat. Ten minutes left.

I entered the cafeteria. I saw some of my castmates milling around. The microphones were scattered on a table. The costumes were on the racks. I was on time.

At this point, I was so nervous that I was floating around the cafeteria. I felt light and dizzy. But I couldn’t have a panic attack. No, I couldn’t. None of my castmates knew I had social anxiety, and I wasn’t about to let them know that.

“Hi, Jade!” someone called out to me. I looked around and saw one of my few friends in my cast, Hailey. She was a wide-eyed girl with an innocent air about her, like she was not yet exposed to the harsh reality of life. I couldn’t help but smile whenever she was around me. She was so bubbly and vivacious that I always wondered how we got along. I believed that trying to talk to me was like trying to talk to a rock, except ten times more difficult.

“Hey,” I replied.

“You ready for tonight?” Hailey asked, almost bouncing on her toes. I nodded, then shook my head.

“Kind of. I’m like, really nervous,” I said, shifting from foot to foot. “Like, I’m excited, but I feel like I’m, like, about to pass out.”

Hailey smiled, reaching out to pat me on the shoulder. “Happens to everyone. Good luck!”

“Thanks. You too,” I replied. She waved and started making her way towards the costume racks.

I couldn’t help but think about the conversation. Why did I say ‘like’ so much? I slurred my words again. Ugh, why am I so hopeless and awkward?

I tried to stop thinking about it and made my way towards the costume rack. One of the parent volunteers smiled at me, and the corners of her eyes crinkled up. She looked like she was in her late forties, but she still looked beautiful. I knew that I would never be as pretty as her, and my stomach churned even more just thinking about it. Why was life so unfair?

“Hi, sweetie. Looking for your costume?” she asked. I nodded and smiled. I had learned that it was safer to just nod and smile with adults. They didn’t care as much as kids.

“Okay. Here you go!” she said, handing me my costume. “Remember to tuck your hair behind your ears. And good luck!”

“Thank you,” I replied, giving her a small, tight-lipped smile. She nodded in response and went back to sorting through the costumes. I quickly walked to the locker rooms, trying not to think about every single thing that could go wrong in the next three hours. I could lose my voice. I could trip and fall and break a leg. Literally.

I opened the door to the girls locker room, going inside one of the changing stalls. As I looked around at the scratched, cream colored walls, I knew that something was wrong. For some reason, tears were welling up in my eyes. I tried to stop them, but I couldn’t. I was trying to breathe, but I couldn’t. My lungs weren’t working. My legs weren’t working. Nothing was working.

I sat down onto the little bench with a loud thump, wincing at how loud the sound was. I stared at the dirty tiles for a moment before the tears started to fall. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do it.

No no no no no, I told myself. Stop it stop it stop it stop it--

“Hey, Jade? What’s wrong?” someone asked from the other side of the curtain. I recognized the voice. It was Cara.

Why me? I asked myself. Why? Why? Why?

I ignored her, trying to shut everything out. I tried to focus on my breathing. I had to get it under control. I couldn’t have a panic attack. Not there. Not an hour before the show. The show must go on, right? Right. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.

“Jade.” Cara’s voice was more insistent now, and I knew that she knew something was seriously wrong.

I kept on ignoring her, hoping that it was just a nightmare. That I would wake up to find out that there was no show. I had no social anxiety. I had a normal life.

“Jade. Come on.” Cara sounded annoyed. I couldn’t blame her. I was annoying. I was so needy. I was worthless.

“You know what, I don’t care if you’re naked or not. I’m coming in,” Cara said. She pulled the curtain to the side and strode in. Immediately, her angry expression was replaced with a frown. “Jade,” she said quietly.

“Shut up,” I replied, my voice muffled by my hands. “Go away.” Instead of being calmed down by my best friend’s presence, my heartbeat rapidly increased. I had to breathe. But I couldn’t. I was choking. Was I choking? Was I even alive? I needed to get out of there. I needed to go. People would judge me. They would call me a crybaby. The show would be ruined. Because of me. Because of my whining. I was so needy. I was worthless. A waste of space. I needed air. I needed to get out of that nightmare. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.

I wasn’t aware that I had attracted so much attention, but the next thing I knew, I was being hugged by people. So many people. More people than I felt comfortable with, but I couldn’t protest. I still couldn’t seem to breathe, much less speak. Someone was saying, “What’s wrong with her? Why is she crying?” I wanted to ask that, too. What was wrong with me?

“Shut up, Nevaeh,” Cara said. Nevaeh didn’t speak again, and I heard footsteps going out of the locker room. I still couldn’t calm down.

I could tell that Cara was getting extremely annoyed by the girls crowding around me. “Everybody, stop! Jade needs space! Can’t you see she’s hyperventilating?” she yelled. Immediately, the girls around me froze. The soft murmurs stopped. Slowly, they rose, and I felt like a huge weight was lifted off of me. I still couldn’t control my breathing, but my “suffocating to death” meter lowered just a bit.

I managed to open my eyes and survey the locker room. I saw seven other girls blinking back at me, concern evident in their eyes. I recognized them. They were my castmates.

Right. The show. The show was starting soon, and I had a panic attack in the locker room, in front of many of my castmates. How great was that? They would gossip about me. They would laugh after I left the room. They would say, “Did you see that girl? She is such an ugly crier. She’s so needy.”

I had almost been able to control my breath, but I could feel another panic attack coming. I didn’t want it. But I couldn’t stop it. I couldn't stop it. I couldn’t stop it.

“Jade, listen to me. Guys, get out,” Cara said. The girls scrambled out of the locker room, casting me worried looks as they left. I slowly sat up, but I put my head on my knees and tried to breathe.

One. Two. Three… I told myself. Stop hyperventilating. Stop hyperventilating. Stop--

“Jade,” Cara said, gripping my shoulder firmly. “Look at me. Try to calm down.”

I felt my breath quickening by the second, but I gave her a slight nod. I closed my eyes, willing my heartbeat to slow down. Please.

“Don’t worry about the stupid show. You’ll be amazing out there. You will show the audience that you are a great singer and actor. Your cast will be so proud of you,” Cara said, rubbing my back. “Just focus on breathing in. Breathe out.”

I tried to follow her gentle commands. In. Out. In. Out.

It felt like ten years when I realized that I was able to breathe normally again, but it probably only took five minutes. Cara was still murmuring, “It’ll be fine. In. Out. In. Out.”

“Cara?” I said, sitting up. She scooted back, and I turned around to face her.

“What?” she asked.

“... Do I look like I’ve been crying?”

She laughed, and I immediately felt a bit better. Her laugh was like the sun shining through the storm clouds. I loved it.

“You idiot,” she said. I couldn’t help but smile. “C’mon. Let’s get you changed. You’re going to rock this performance, I know it.”

“Thanks,” I replied. I still had many doubts, but now the world didn’t seem so cruel after all. I just needed to get through the show. That wasn’t hard. Right? Right.

***

I peeked out through the curtains. My heartbeat sped up as soon as I saw the packed auditorium. I couldn’t see a single empty seat. There were so many faces. At the front row, I recognized many of my classmates. Jayden was there, whispering with her friends. Nobody noticed me. -- they were either looking at the program or talking amongst each other. I was fine with that.

“Packed house tonight,” Hailey said cheerily from behind me. I knew that she had heard about the whole incident in the locker room, and I was grateful that she didn’t mention it. “They will be so impressed. Ready?” She raised her fist and gave me a small smile.

“... Ready.” I tried to calm down. I couldn’t have another panic attack right before the show. I giggled softly as she gave me a fistbump, then mentally winced. Why did I giggle? Fortunately, Hailey didn’t seem to notice.

“Break a leg,” she whispered as the music started. I nodded, then turned my attention towards the stage, ready for my cue. After the first few bars, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and half-walked, half-ran out onto the stage. I was closely followed by a few other of my castmates, but I didn’t concentrate on that. I concentrated on the audience.

Fake it ‘til you make it, I chanted inside my head. Don’t let the audience sense your fear. That was what my director told my cast. Not to let the audience see you afraid or self-conscious or anything other than your character. The show must go on.

It was almost time for my solo part. I could feel my hands sweating and my heart pounding in my chest, but I ignored it. I had to focus on the show.

The first few notes of my solo began to play. I opened my mouth and sang. I was surprised when I heard whoops from the audience and from behind the curtains. My castmates were cheering me on.

It felt good.

I felt good.

And I realized that all of that worrying and panicking was for nothing. There was nothing to be afraid of. The audience probably wouldn’t notice if I made a mistake. Not everyone hated me. It was all in my head.