Today, I am depressed. No, I didn't just break up with my boyfriend. No, I didn't break my nail either. I mean, I'm actually depressed. So, anyway. Here's a story for you all, though I really speak to nobody. Once, there was girl. That girl was me. I always knew I was different, but I suppose I never had it quite in my face as I did in middle school. Rosedale Middle School to be exact. It was Hell at it's best. All anybody ever did was talk behind each other's backs and spread rumors about. It was almost stereotypical, if not totally. I suppose it may not have been that bad, but that is all I remember of it. I never really knew what to make of the numerous insults and hushed words behind my back. At the school I had attended in Missouri nobody ever treated each other so bad. Maybe that is because everybody was so different to begin with.
But anyway, I'm just trying to bring some things to light. Bullying, for one. But that is already very publicized and sensationalized on the media. Yet, there are silent souls out there still, crying out into the night. You don't know what pain is, until it is all that's left.
I used to be a bit of a perfectionist, if not a lot. I would obsessively write in pen and for every word I messed up I'd tear out the page and start over again. I had the perfect grades. I was the perfect student. I was always so perfectly happy. Or was I?
I was, or at least I thought so. I would stay in my room all day. I'd read, write, or draw. Movies? Not really. Fast food? Rarely. Milkshake? Never. Smore? Never. Mall? Never. I guess that's why I didn't understand much on TV, all of the allusions and dream-like pictures flashing across a screen. But I was content in my numb world. It's somewhat amusing that I felt so much and yet felt nothing at all.
It wasn't until about the summer before going off to high school a year early (Sumner Academy, it's rather advanced and rigorous so you can actually start in 8th grade) that things seemed to spin out of control a bit. I had some friends then, and I loved them all. but one in particular was different in a way that I could not pinpoint. I do not like not knowing things. But something about her told me to run for my life.
(Not literally, but still) She seemed to always know something about me that I did not. Pretty scary. Now, skipping the rest of my long story, we actually went on to be great friends. More surprising because we became close friends. But I had lied by oppression. Guess I should've told her that I come with a warning, huh?
I'm the kind of person that always ends up hurting the people that try to get close to me. If you want to talk casually, with neither knowing much about the other, well, that's just fine. You'd never even notice anything wrong with me. At all. I'd be a perfect, happy, out-going, and slightly mischievous friend. Just don't get too close, because I am guaranteed to bite.
Something good out of any of this? Well, I forget just about everything. I mean that too. I rarely remember anything about my past. Sometimes I wonder if I'll forget my name next, heheh.
But anyway, I just needed to get that off my chest. Now I've got to move on to more pleasant thoughts, lik food. I just reread that and it sounded just as unhealthy as everything I've been saying so far. Oh well. Nothing's wrong with eating several boxes of chocolates. Just kidding. Maybe.
Feel free to ignore this post? I'll return to writing in a happier sense later :)
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