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Status: Finished  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: September 30, 2018

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Submitted: September 30, 2018



Eighth grade is a difficult year. So many different battles to fight. Sometimes I just don't know what to do anymore. Sometimes I feel like the world is against me and there's no way out. Sometimes I just feel like everything around me is crashing down on top of me.

Over the summer, I forgot how difficult school can be. Not just acidemically. Everything. I forgot it can be difficult to feel wanted, and sometimes you have to convince yourself people are laughing with you, not at you. Sometimes that's all you can really do.

Imagine being shattered into a million pieces, and each piece has a different emotion, trait, generally a piece for everything that makes you who you are. Now imagine you have to try to put each piece back together, exactly how it was. That's how life is for me. Sometimes I can't find one of the pieces. Sometimes they're shattered too small to see.

When I look at my childhood photos, I see a sad kid who doesn't know how to be happy. A broken kid. A kid who had their happiness snatched and shattered too soon. A kid who suffered bullies and death, only to experience more crap that only breaks her more. I see a child who doesn't know what to do anymore and just wants it to be over. 

When I was little, I never had that "everyone is nice and innocent" mentality. I was bullied at a very young age, and I just never saw things in a child-like way. I never believed in the easter bunny or santa (although I never celebrated either), and I knew the tooth fairy was just my mom.

Even when I was little, I thought I was ugly. At least compared to everyone else. And looking back, I was a beautiful child. My blond hair and bright blue eyes. My pale skin. Everything. And now I look at myself and wonder "what happened." My pale skin darkened and has an olive tint, my blond hair darkened to brown, and my stunning blue eyes turned to a dingy green. I'm the definition of change.

It's hard to be strong when it seems there's nothing to look foward to. When there's nowhere left to turn. You feel hopelessly lost and alone. It's so difficult to push through and see the light at the end of the tunnel, and ignore the black darkness that you've left behind.

Strength is not something you're born with. It's something you learn. You learn it through experiencing hard times. Everyone feels alone and lost at one point in their lives, but even though it hurts, it helps to make you stronger so that the next time, it won't hurt so bad.

So much has happened since I first walked through the school doors on the first day of eighth grade. Both good and bad. And to all my teachers, I'm sorry that I've been doing so poorly in class. I'm trying my best, but sometimes I just have to put my own mental and physical health above assignments, and I just forget. Sometimes I just lose control over everything and I'm just snowballing. Stuck in a loop.

But here's the thing. I push through, no matter how hard it feels. Eventually I reach that light at the end of my tunnel. I don't lose hope, and when I do, I snatch it back. Life throws a lot of obstacles in my way, but I get past each and every one of them.

The moral of this story is that things are going to happen, whether you like it or not. But it will get better. No matter how much it seems like it won't. "If you can't run, you walk. If you can't walk, you crawl and if you can't crawl, you find someone to carry you."

I am doing my best to stay strong and do whatever I can to keep myself on track. It's just really difficult. It's hard not to cry and break down. It's hard to not hear people whispering about me.

But I promise I will get better.

© Copyright 2019 Leah E.. All rights reserved.

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