Trying to Survive the Teenage Years
If there is anything I have learned from my years of being a teenager, it’s that those years are horrible. Friends constantly coming and going, never hanging around for too long. The strategy I developed is simple. I did what the Health teachers all said was unhealthy to do. I created a ‘Public Self’ and a ‘Private Self’. My ‘Public Self” was who everyone had grown to expect me to be. The loving, always caring, always nice, always understanding girl. I helped people out, I was smart and, to my knowledge, not hated by anyone. I was in the top ten percent of the class and volunteered every weekend. I didn’t have a boyfriend but people came to me for their relationship advice anyway. I was automatically trusted by just about everyone.
Then there is my ‘Private Self’. The me that as soon as I got home I tossed on my comfiest jeans and lounged in a tank top for hours. The one that ate whatever the hell I wanted because despite my humbleness I knew I wouldn’t gain weight. The me that criticized everyone and couldn’t bear people. The me I kept locked inside.
This person was cynical. She was overly analytical and processed things too much. What people saw as intelligence and book smarts was really me trying to keep myself alive. As life wore on and challenges weren’t so challenging anymore, life became dull. People became expendable, life became too scheduled. Everything was repetitive and expected. Maybe this is why my ‘Public Self’ so easily tried to deal with everyone else’s problems. My life was becoming too monetary on its own.
Don’t get me wrong, my ‘Private Self’ was not mean and nasty. I could never be cold-hearted no matter how I tried. I couldn’t find it in myself not to care. There were times I wished I was a psychopath so that I didn’t feel anything. Because even though the daily actions and motions became easy for me, the hormones and emotions were still taking a raging onslaught on my soul. I wanted it all to end.
I’m not a heartless bitch. The smiles that I share with my real friends aren’t fake, they manage to somehow make me feel happy and forget for a while. I don’t truly fake emotions. I just hide certain ones.
Now, I’ll explain what made all of this come to light. It started maybe, oh I don’t know, last year? Yes, lets start there.
