My life is easier than most during this time. It's hardly changed at all. Three times a week, we try to untwist my spine. Leaving the house is no issue at all. Wake up late to load my laptop, yet I log onto school on time. The only issue is homework refusing to load, but that hasn't changed anything at all. My routine has stayed the same, yet an overhanging cloud slowly starts to fill the air. My family's concerns over something unseen seeps into my own worry. No one there seems to care for the safety of others. Nothing has changed there at all. A slight anxiety gnaws at me. It bites and it tastes yet its teeth don't sink in. So nothing has changed there at all. With more corruption coming to light, more hatred and anger, the cloud starts to grow, and the fangs grow longer. But I'll stay silent about it, so nothing has changed there. They talk about it more - my parents, I mean. Politics and illness and people who don't make sense - every day, every hour, and the news is always on. That's new. I keep picking at my skin, slight anxiety seeping in. I bleed without feeling it, the pain far away. My fingers are chapped, my lips torn apart. But it will heal, so it's fine. Nothing new there, anyway. Things are happening around me. Friends of family dying, family being reckless, family not understanding the danger they're in. Family wanting to be blind to it all. I eat more skin off my fingers, more off my lips. The scent of lavender is calming, soothing, and I give in. Keep trying to unwind my spine, but excuses prevent my family from helping me get help. It's happening more than usual, but it's not really anything new. I can't watch anything without my family referencing politics, or anything really, that I'm trying to escape from. Don't they know it's to escape? To get away from this world, even just for an hour? So that's new. Everything else is the same for me. I don't feel trapped in my house. I just don't want to go outside. I leave three times a week. My homework is lagging, but it stays the same. I keep scratching and picking til I bleed, but bandages and lavender are there for me. Nothing is normal, but it's all the same.