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Race had been told all his life that this feeling would pass. That whatever he was feeling right now would fade, and he would forget all about it.
But then there was that feeling of worthlessness. An aching in the pit of his stomach, that reminded him he would never be good enough for anybody.
It burned a hole through him sometimes. When he lay there in the morning, unable to get out of bed for fear of falling apart completely. The complete irrationality that when his feet touched the ground, the world would end, and everything he loved would shatter.
That ache kept him lying down, pain finally taking away that feeling.
Still people told him that feeling would pass, but Race was still here, wondering when the last time he hadn't had this thought in the back of his mind.
Doctors always talked about the way he felt, as if it was temporary. A depressive episode that he'd come out of in a few weeks. But that wasn't true. Race had been in a slump for years, he was just really good at covering it all up. Throw in a bit too much energy and a smile, and people would believe anything.
But it was those moments when he was alone. When he began crying, and, he wasn't sure if he could ever stop. When he was hunched over the toilet at four in the morning, because he'd become so overwhelmed about something he was physically sick.
Or when movement was impossible, and Race didn't move for forty eight hours.
Jack had come round after that one. Finding him staring at the ceiling hardly blinking or breathing. Race had cried in his arms, because everything hurt more than he could say. Every breath was agony, everytime he blinked, he thought his eyes were going to explode.
Race felt insane sometimes. Like doctors wouldn't believe him, because it wasn't normal to feel that way.
But right now, on day two without feeling able to eat anything, he couldn't quite work out why.
The aching in his stomach quickly became all Race wanted to focus on. It helped clear his mind, especially since it all went fuzzy when he stood up.
School really was the least of his concerns, but since he was so close to being kicked out, Race forced himself to go.
He looked like shit, and he knew that. His cheeks were hollowing, and the bags under his eyes were darker than the clouds looming over him. People would question it, his friends would ask if he was okay, but Race didn't care. He wasn't okay. He hadn't been okay in such a long time, but no one that could help him cared.
"Mornin' Racer, you look like utter crap," Albert said, in an all too cheery greeting.
Race rolled his eyes, "thanks, I hadn't noticed," he mumbled, biting on his cheek. This was a bad idea, he felt sick and dizzy, and Race just wanted to go home.
Albert placed a hand on Race's shoulder, concern evident on his face, "I think you should go home mate," he said softly.
Race shook his head, "'m fine, can't get kicked out," he said urgently. Home was good, but getting kicked out of school and losing home was no good. Especially since his room was basically the only safe place he had left.
"Okay, well take it easy today yeah," Albert sighed, as he wrapped his arms around Race, he loved the guy too much to watch him completely destroy himself.
Race melted into Albert's touch. That was one thing he needed, one thing that definitely helped. The delicate touch of someone who truly loved you. The warmth of an embrace founded on care and kindness alone.
"C'mon Racer, can't be late to english," Albert said, slowly pulling away. He was still worrying far too much, but if he couldn't send Race home, he might as well keep an eye on him.
*
The rest of the day felt like a blur. From complete dissociation, to not having the function to listen or follow anything, everything passed within minutes.
Jack walked him home, talking about random things as they walked. He told Race all about the painting he was working on, and how annoying it had turned out to be.
Race had laughed slightly when Jack had said he wanted to punch a hole through it, but he mostly seemed a blank canvas of his usually vibrant personality.
"Are you okay Racer?" Jack asked as they reached the front door.
Race nodded, staring down at the floor. He was lying, but he didn't quite know how to tell the truth.
"Please talk to me, it feels like you're disappearing in front of us. I'm so worried about you."
Race didn't know how to respond. Everything was getting loud, closing in on him, and all Race could do was try and keep breathing. He thought Jack was talking to him, but it sounded too loud to hear, and simultaneously miles away. His chest began feeling tighter and tighter, and Race then became aware he was having a panic attack. Again.
It took awhile for Race to be able to feel something again. It made him aware he was now sitting down, Jack's arm wrapped tightly around him. Breathing became an allowed skill a few moments later, and even though they were sharp and shuddered, it felt like air was going into his lungs again.
"Jackie," he whispered, his head flopping onto Jack's shoulder. Race was exhausted, this day was dumb, and this feeling was even dumber.
"You're okay Racer, I got you," Jack said softly, this air of calm making Race feel a little bit better.
"'M sorry," Race mumbled, using his sleeve to wipe the tears from his cheeks. He hated crying, and crying in front of someone was Race's least favourite thing.
"D'you wanna talk about, get whatever's weighing you down off your chest?" Jack asked, staring at the trees opposite Race's house. He enjoyed looking at nature, it gave him ideas for painting, and made him feel calm. Which right now was what he needed since he was sure which side of Race he preferred. The empty, or the broken.
"Everything feels wrong," Race began, looking up at Jack with a deepening frown. He wasn't quite sure how to explain it all, everything just felt jumbled in his head.
"I think you should talk to a therapist, I've found it helpful," Jack said, hand running up and down Race's spine.
"I just," Race said, his breath catching in his throat, this was hard, "I don't know how to ask for help Jack. I push it all away, and hide my feelings inside, but it's breaking me. How do I say I'm not okay?"
Race had tears running down his cheeks, and a pain in his chest he felt would last for a lifetime. His head was spinning, and Race just felt sick.
"You're doing it now Race," Jack said softly, smiling slightly, "you're telling me, and we can do this together yeah." He kept the kid close beside him, this was probably the safest Race had felt in months.
"What do we do Jackie?" Race asked in such a small voice, if Jack hadn't been listening closely, he wouldn't have heard at all.
"Do you feel unsafe?" Jack asked, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
"What do you mean?"
Jack looked down at the phone, then explained, "do you feel like someone is going to hurt you, or, like you're going to hurt yourself."
Race stared at his hands, holding his breath as he slowly nodded his head. He knew what was coming now, but it felt like the best move. Sure he didn't want to be here, but he was afraid of hurting others by leaving. This at least had him somewhere safe, and away from his parents.
"Can I call you an ambulance, or do you want me to take you to the hospital?"
"Call," Race just about mumbled. The sickness was only getting worse, and the tightness in his chest made him wary of having another panic attack.
"I'm only doing this because I love you. You know that right?"
Race nodded, "I know. I need help Jack, thank you for actually helping me," he said, trying to ignore the shaking of his hands. He was going to be okay.
Jack waited another moment, before calling the hospital. He went through all the questions, and explained the situation. He could feel Race shaking for the entire conversation, absolutely terrified about what the result would be.
"Racer," Jack said, and Race let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding, "there's an ambulance coming, they're going to make sure you're safe, and then we look at plans to help you feel okay."
Wrapping his arms tightly around Jack, he mumbled thank you, glad Jack had walked him home. The day would have ended very differently if that hadn't happened.
*
Sitting in the waiting room with Jack felt safe. He was going to have to talk to a psychiatrist at some point, and would probably end up staying for a while.
It wouldn't be fun, Race knew that, but at least he'd be safe. And safe was mostly unavailable at the moment.
"Jackie?" Race asked in a small voice, looking at the elder.
"Yeah Racer," Jack responded, looking up from his phone, with a worried expression.
"Thank you for believing me, and getting someone to help me."
Of course Racer," Jack said with a frown, "I'm always here for you, you're my little brother remember."
Race nodded, fighting not to cry. His emotions were all out of whack at the moment, and little things just broke him. "Thank you, I forget sometimes, when I'm feeling so alone. It's just no one has ever really taken me seriously when I talk about this feeling I have. They always say it will pass, and I'll be okay, you're the first person to accept I'm feeling something."
He was crying now. You forget how alone you are sometimes. It's not until you finally have someone beside you, that you remember how alone you are.
"I'm so sorry Racer," Jack said, wrapping his arm around the younger's shoulder, "there will always be this feeling. Small and hidden, or large and all you can see. It's rarely something that passes, you've just got to learn to cope with that, and not let it consume you. It's gonna be hard, you know that, but you will be okay, and someday that feeling will be standing right in front of you, and you'll be able to turn around, and go on without it."