You know how some people are really goofy on anesthesia? Yeah well I’m not. Most foster kids aren’t actually. I had surgery the other day, and every time I’ve woken up from surgery it goes like the same. My chest feels tight, and I feel terrified. I don’t know how to explain it, but it feels like I’m right back in that house with my mother, and she’s about to hurt me again. So I cry. Ugly cry, the kind where you’re gasping for breath and your face is screwed up tight. I can hear the nurses freaking out while someone tells them that I have anxiety, depression, and PTSD and that’s why I’m reacting that way. So then the nurses hold my hand, rub my hair, dry my tears off my face. They try to comfort me, but their efforts have no effect on the fear that I feel inside, the panic. It usually last for about ten minutes while I wake up and come to. It’s embarrassing, and that’s why I make my people wait until I’m fully awake before they’re allowed to see me. Nobody is allowed to see me like that. I don’t know why I hide it, when all I want is to know someone safe is next to me. I’m scared that if they see me like that, they’ll know how fucked up I am and leave. I wouldn’t blame them either because if I could leave myself too I would.
