My best disorders

Dream

I woke up late. it was 9 am. I should've been eating my breakfast at this hour, on a normal day.

I got up. My back hurt. I felt a headache settle in. And still, I had to go to school.

Why, oh why did I spend so much time dreaming? Not an unintentional long dream you forget after a week, but a daydream on which I've been working for two weeks now and barely finished.

I should've delayed finishing it. After each night in which I finish a daydream, I feel empty, tired. Unmotivated.

It was the first day of high school. I never care about school until it comes down to grades. I just don't understand- half my teachers say grades don't show your potential, while the other half congratulate and discuss with the B and A students while pitying the ones that get under C.

What conclusion should we get out of this?

Grades do matter. If they didn't, then why is mom so obsessed with me getting straight A's?

Why do I have to participate in all extra classes, and be part of multiple clubs, if it doesn't matter?

That's why I hate school. 

I changed into the Grindermore high school uniform. I hated that weird shirt and the blue jacket that came with it. It reminds me of elementary school. And I want to forget everything that happened then. Everything. 

My hair was a mess, as usual. I didn't even try to put music on while combing it. Mom might've heard it.

When I got downstairs, I greeted everyone with the usual 'morning'. No one responded. Another failed attempt to brighten up the mood.

Dad wasn't at the table. His shift starts at 7 am and ends during school. He always makes it on time to dinner tho.

My brother, Ronald, was next to dad's spot. Maggie was next to mom.

I sat next to mom. She looked at me and scoffed.

-  You've got dark circles around your eyes again. Didn't I tell you to go to sleep early? she looks at me disgusted.

I sigh. 

- But mom, you know I can't fall asleep immediately after I go to bed. I just... don't function this way.

- Nu but's. I didn't grow you to be a brat and I won't. There's no reason for you to act like this.

She gets up to get the soy sauce for the salad. Maggie puts her hand on top of mine and looks at me. She's younger than by two years, but, as the smallest, she still hasn't turned into a spoiled brat. 

She whispers quickly "it's ok". Ronald nods.

As the oldest child, he should be an example to us. At least that's what mom says. He worked his entire life to get a scholarship at a university in Colorado. 

And I? I'm always stuck in the middle. At school I can't enjoy a movie because Maddie asked me to watch it first to see if it's suitable to play at school, meaning I'll know most of the important details and all the drama isn't effective.

Whenever I have some kind of plan for the weekend or for some holiday, mom threatens to forbid me the activity so much, that I often don't get any pleasure out of it, even if it should've been fun.

Everything at me looks fine on the outside, but no one knows what's on the inside. 

Both Maggie and Ron have tried their best to get me to try therapy. 

Like, are they joking? I've worked my butt off my entire life to be better than everyone else, and still have a lot of problems to deal with, and they say I should get therapy? Oh please, I've managed to stay afloat until now, I'll manage in the future too.

When mom returned to the table, I stuffed the last bit of pancake I had left and got up.

I ran to my room. I grabbed my backpack, checked it and made my hair look a bit better.

Maggie has always had long, ginger hair, which I find gorgeous. She has many freckles and a pale rosy face, that looks stunning when she smiles. 

Even Ron has freckles. He's a silent person, and has black hair, like dad, which is most of the time messier than mine.

I don't even have a lot of hair. I've always had this problem. And it kind of hurts. I can't cut my hair shoulder length, as it would look even worse. And I don't have any freckles. Everyone around me looks so in their element, it hurts. I'll never truly like the way I look. Yes, I do have a perfect nose shape and silky hair, but what's the point if I don't like it?

I ran down just in time for the bus. I waved to Maggie and Ron before going outside.

I took a deep breath. It was time to start high school, regardless of my displeasure.