Hey, I'm Anna, or you might know me as prototypical-nonconformist
. Either way, this is where I'm going to put all of the things I write. That's pretty much all it is.
I’m not depressed. No, too many people are “depressed”. Too many empty pill bottles wrongfully handed to the chapped, fragile hands of the invincible youth. Give the teenager the internet, and they suddenly contract everything. So I’m not depressed, because that term is used far too loosely nowadays. But I do know that I don’t feel the same any more. I’m hardly happy anymore. I’m filled with this overwhelming dread for the future. I’m filled with this overwhelming dread for the present. I’m stressed, I’m anxious, I’m exhausted, and I’m confused, but god dammit, I’m not depressed. Maybe this is all just a side effect of life. But I’m not depressed. I’m just not really all together anymore.
You don’t understand, none of you understand. You all have each other; you do, don’t deny it. You’ve had each other since the beginning. Since preschool, or whenever your cherished friendships began. Maybe it’s my fault, maybe it’s me making me feel like this. It probably is. But it’s also the world’s fault, for being set up this way. In order to succeed in this world, your life is planned out like this: you have to get the perfect grades and be in the perfect clubs, so you can get into the perfect college and get the perfect grades again, so you can graduate and get the perfect job, maybe the perfect boyfirend, who will eventually be the perfect husband, who you will marry and live in the perfect house with and have the perfect family with. Except the ship is setting sail, and I forgot to get on the boat. And so I’m standing on the shore, watching the rest of you sail into your better lives. And I can try, and I can try, but I’ll never swim fast enough to catch up to the boat. The boat is big, but there’s not enough room for me on it. There never was, and there never will be. And on the boat is everything I thought could be mine. Everything I thought was mine. All the people I liked. The books, the movies, even the music. Because there’s always someone who’s made it theirs more than me. So I’ll just stay here, building my sand-castle, waiting for the tide to smash it down once again. I could cry out for help, but they don’t like that. That’s a sign of weakness, and the boat will not tolerate weakness. You can cry, and you can kick, and scream, but it’ll never get you anywhere on your tiny deserted island. The island of Nobody Cares. The world keeps on spinning, so are you going to spin with it? Or is it spinning too fast for you? Some of us are keeping up with it, but then we get tripped and lose track. So the boat sails on. The world spins. It all happens in the blink of an eye, as I stand, blinking, weeping, wondering what exactly am I supposed to do now?
It terrifies me. First semester is over, and that terrifies me. It terrifies me because that means second semester is starting- which means I’m almost done with junior year. Next year-no, not even next year, this summer- I’ll start applying to college. This summer, I’ll get another job so I can save up some money, maybe so I can buy a car. Then senior year will begin, and it will be the most nerve-wracking year of my life, because everything will be changing. We’ll all go away to different schools, in different parts of the country. Some of us will never see each other again; many of us will at least make the effort, though time will slowly stretch us further and further apart. We’ll be consumed by our own lives- meeting new people, seeing new places, trying new things. We’ll hardly have the time for even a thought about the past. So what I’m trying to say is…we’re all growing up too fast. I’ve just gotten settled into my life, it’s finally working itself out. I like who I’ve got right now, it’s far too soon to let it be lost so quickly. Please don’t leave me, guys. You’re all I’ve got.
And that terrifies me.