I’ve never had to work for things. I’m not one of those teenage stories of failure and pity. No, I’ve always been independent and thought for myself. Things come naturally for me. They classify me as “gifted”. Ha! Yeah, gifted. A teacher tells me to write a story and as soon as my pencil hits the paper I’m off. I write and write until the task is done. I don’t have to plan things out, or write a bazillion rough drafts. The chemistry teacher tries to introduce a new concept. I’m done and ready to move on by the time everyone else is catching on. Yeah. Lucky right? No… Not so much. Constantly I find myself pretending. I act like I don’t understand. “Blonde Moments”. Honestly, I really do have those moments, and I really am a klutz. The thing is if I tried at all I wouldn’t have those. Why do I pretend let go? So I can have a life! People don’t look at me and think Oh she’s smart, I’d like to be friends with her. People look at who I pretend to be and think Wow, she’s relatable. I could totally be friends with her! It’s not that I pretend I guess. It’s that I don’t do what I could. I try to tell those close to me. Tell them how alone I feel. Tell them I don’t feel like I fit in. There I go again. This isn’t a sob story. I want this to be REAL. The truth is I do fit in. I fit in everywhere I go. I’ve always been complimented on my personality. Being so “down to earth” and “likeable”. Really? Maybe the problem is that I don’t see it. It doesn’t matter to me that I can be friends with any group of kids. It doesn’t matter that I’m liked so easily. What matters to me is that no matter how accepted and welcomed I am I still feel alone.
Journal Entry #1
June 22, 2009