Tired.

At age 11, 

sleepless nights had become a regular occurrence.

So, my mom wasn't surprised when she heard a knock on her door at 1 am.

She was surprised when I opened the door and made eye contact with her.

I hadn't started crying yet,

I knew it was coming though. 

I had been pacing the hallway outside her door for a while,

debating on whether to wake her,

or simply try and go back to bed.

Finally I paused in front of her door,

took a deep breath, 

and tried to think of what I was going to say.

I still had no idea what to say.

I couldn't find the words to express what I was feeling,

I just knew it was intense.

I reached my hand up and knocked slowly, but heavily on her door.

A sleepy

"Come in"

I opened the door,

right as she reached over to turn on her lamp.

I took a step forward into her room,

still desperately searching for the right words.

As I walked in and stood at the base of her bed,

I locked eyes with her

and stopped breathing.

This was absolutely terrifying.

And I know she saw the horror in my eyes

as she lunged forward at me screaming my name.

I tried desperately to remember how to make my lungs move,

I tried to contract or loosen my throat.

My body began to get weak and stiff at the same time

  my mom grabbed my shoulders and shook me.

My lungs finally inhaled like I had been drowning

and my body nearly went limp onto the bed.

My mom helped me lie down

and asked, understandably panicked

"What was that?"
I looked at her

honestly surprised that I wasn't crying

and said 

"I forgot how to breath"

I fell asleep within minutes of laying next to her.

As bad as our relationship was,

I usually fell asleep quickly when near her.

The next morning,

neither of us talked about what had happened.

Actually... we didn't even talk.

I think it freaked both of us out

She watched her daughter physically manifest emotions she couldn't express in words,

her daughter who had always used words,

now, it seemed, didn't have them.

I got ready for school,

and to my surprise when I came up stairs,

she still wasn't ready,

but on the phone.

I knew she was talking about me.

About her crazy emotional daughter.

I remember the air of shame that felt almost palpable.

She took me to school.

Dropped me off.

Still not saying anything.

School was ok.

School was never good, 

you needed to be smart for it to be good.

My teacher slipped me a note to stay in during recess,

this was a normal thing,

So I didn't think much of it.

I knew I was about a million assignments behind.

I figured I was just being disciplined.

Again... not unusual. 

The bell rang for recess,

and everyone went outside,

except me.

I watched my friends eagerly grab stuff to play with,

I watched with gut wrenching envy as I saw my classmates smiling and laughing.

My teacher,

Mrs. Hansen,

asked me to come over to her desk.

I walked over to her,

thinking about the smiles and laughter,

and that in comparison to my night the night before.

Mrs. Hansen looks at me,

and with a concerned look she says

"Your mom told me you forgot how to breathe last night?"

I nodded.

She asked for an explanation.

I shrugged.

She asked again.

I shrugged again.

At an obvious loss she looked down at her hands,

that I was already watching intensely,

We stood there in silence,

as she played with her wedding ring,

and I listened to the laughter and squeals of my classmates at recess. 

 She quietly said

"Hillary, I'm worried"

I shrugged and softly said

"I think I'm tired"

She exhaled, almost in an agitated way and began to say

"yeah, your mom has said you don't sleep well at night,

you should really think about..."

I cut her off,

sternly looking her in the eyes,

"No. I. Am. Tired."

I sat down and started crying.

she put her hand softly on my arm,

I looked back in her eyes and through trying to hold back my sobs

and whispered

"I'm just so tired. when does it stop?"

That was the first time I realized what that engulfing emotion was.

And the first time I recognized pity in someones eyes.

And when I realized there was no answer to
"when does it stop?"