Taylor Swift Comfort Imagines

All I do is try try try

Taylor and Travis's kid 

also I'm randomly naming this character Kaylie. 

CW: depression

I close my laptop after a test, another failing grade for the books. I studied, probably more than a lot of my peers. But, so much time and attention is lost to the battlegrounds in my mind. Thoughts of not being enough, of being unloved, of being nothing special cloud my mind, rendering me unable to focus. It's not just school: The truth is, I've been struggling with just getting out of bed. I don't want to tell my parents about this: my younger siblings, Jamie and Ellie need their time more. Also, my Mom and Dad are some of the most hardworking people I know. Would they be second-hand embarrassed that I can't do anything right? That I can't even measure up to my younger siblings, with Jamie already being in an advanced gymnastics class and Ellie winning the spelling bee? My Dad definitely loves Jamie the most, even though parents can't pick favorites: she's on track to be an Olympic gymnast at the age of six. My mom's favorite is definitely Ellie, her little English genius. 

Leaving me no other way to get home, I get a ride home with my friend Sarah. Mom is at the studio and took the car to drop Jamie off at gymnastics. Ellie is at Academic Bowl after school, and getting a ride home with a friend. Dad has football practice. I work on my homework and then scroll on my phone for a little bit before deciding to make dinner to help out. Dad won't be home until 9:00pm, and sometimes Jamie gives mom trouble. I decide to make chicken tenders, green beans, potatoes, and rice. I cook a lot, because it's something I'm actually good at. I set a timer for the tenders and vegetables on my phone, and sit down at the kitchen island to do some homework. 

The door opens, and mom and Jamie come in. "Jamie, shoes off please honey. We don't want the floor to get dirty," my mom says. "Why?" Jamie retorts out of curiosity. 

"Because then it'll look gross. And you'd be cleaning it up," Mom responds. Jamie takes off her shoes, emphasizing how loudly she puts them down. Mom sighs, knowing you have to pick your battles with six-year-olds. 

"Hi baby," she says, walking into the kitchen, embracing me. When she sees that something is in the oven, she gives me a grateful look. "Thank you sweetie, that's so thoughtful of you," she says. The door opens and Ellie comes in the doorway. 

"Hi sweetheart. How was Academic Bowl?" my mom asks, embracing her. 

"It was great! I won three practice rounds!" Ellie chirps excitedly. 

"That's amazing, you're so smart and hardworking!" Mom exclaims proudly. 

I know it's dumb, but I can't help but feel a pang of jealousy. I feel like I'm in the wrong family: They all have a talent and I'm just there. I get decent grades, but lately it's been getting harder. I feel like I can't keep up anymore. People always talk about going from gifted to burnt out, but this isn't what this is. I was never smart to begin with, and I'm trying my best and still failing. 

We all settle at the table for dinner, my anxiety about all of the things I have to do taking over. Jamie is talking about learning the uneven bars and Ellie is talking about spelling "ubiquitous", which is quite impressive for a 4th grader. Jamie is a fast eater and goes to practice her gymnastics in the basement. Ellie goes to read a book, so it's just my mom and me. "Y/n, your Geometry teacher sent out a grade update today." Mom starts.

"Sorry," I say, picking at a hangnail. 

 "I just want you to explain what happened," she says. 

"I don't know. It's like everything is going too fast," I say, barely scratching the surface. None of it makes sense, no matter how many practice problems I do. I try to ask questions in class, but that was shut down quickly when people laughed at me. 

"Do you think you need a tutor? Why didn't you come to me or your dad?" she continues. 

"I don't know. You and Dad are busy," I trail off

"We always have time for you. I know we both tell all of you that," she says

"Yeah, well it doesn't feel like that. It's always new album this, football practice that, perfect Ellie, and prodigy Jamie!" I sass, letting my emotions get the better of me. Everyone gets on my nerves so easily lately. 

"We try our best to make time for you. If you need help, it's your job to ask for it. And I don't appreciate the way you're talking to me!"

She doesn't like the way I'm talking to her? I don't like feeling like a background character in my own family! I want to retort, to say something. But, every time I do it's dismissed as an excuse or one of my siblings has something more important going on. 

I run upstairs to my room, unable to hold back my tears. Usually I contain my emotions because I don't have anything to contribute. So, I decided I might as well not make Mom and Dad's lives harder with outbursts. Lately though, my emotions have been getting the better of me, pent up feelings of inadequacy rising like steam until I explode. 

"Y/n, sweetie. Can I come in?" I hear my mom ask softly behind my closed door. I don't want to speak now, because it'll be evident in my voice that I was crying. But, if I open the door, she'll see my face and that I've been crying. "Sure," I croak out, still facing the opposite side of the doorway. Seconds later, I feel her rubbing my back and brushing strands of hair out of my face. "I'm sorry for saying that it's your job to ask for help downstairs. It can be really difficult to and I can understand why you would hesitate." She says. I roll over so that I'm on my stomach so she doesn't see my tears.  "What's going on baby? You don't seem like your usual self," She asks gently. 

"I'm fine. Don't you have something more important to attend to," I ask, my words sour. I already have been pushing her away, why not just make her give up on me?  Tears well in my eyes as I realize that she has been making time for me, but I've just been pushing her away. I've been pushing everyone away; they're better off. 

"I know me and your Dad have demanding jobs, but we still love and care about you and your siblings equally and you'll always be our priority. And I'm your mom. I'm going to notice when something's wrong," she says. "So what's been going on? I know you're a good kid and didn't mean to snap; something's going on," she continues, her voice soft and comforting, coaxing me to cry and tell her everything. I sit up slightly, and it took just about everything in me to do this. But, I want to try for her since she's trying with me. 

I stare at the floor, a pain waiting to escape my throat. Because, if I'm being honest, I can't quite describe it myself. I'm out of touch with the old me: the happy, energetic girl just seems so out of touch. I don't know if I can ever be like that again. 

"I don't know. I miss who I was. I miss being smart. I miss having energy to do the things I need to do. I miss not having a voice in my head that hates me. I miss not lashing out at you. I'm scared I'll never be happy again," I sob loudly. 

She pulls me into a hug, rubbing my arms. "Sweetie, I know it feels so hard right now. Sometimes we have hard days, weeks, months, or even years. I can't tell you that you'll live a life without pain, but I will tell you I love you and I'm not going anywhere. Maybe you won't be the same person as you were before, but you can feel like yourself again and come back even stronger." She says, hugging me even tighter. 

"Why am I here? I'm not athletic like Jamie or smart like Ellie, so I feel like you and Dad just think I'm useless," I trail off, my lip quivering as another round of tears takes over my body. Just then, Dad appears in the doorframe and walks over to me and mom. 

Mom tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and starts her speech. "Kaylie, you are NOT useless. Me and your Dad could never see you as useless; you're the best thing to ever happen to us. You and your siblings have different strengths and talents, and we appreciate all of you. I love you the way you are and I don't want you to be more like someone else. I don't think Jamie or Ellie could cook as well as you." mom says, smirking.  "I'll always love you, even when you bring home a bad grade, lash out, or make a mistake because you're human and it's bound to happen. We love you no matter what," she continues, motioning to herself and Dad.

"Yeah girlie. It's ok to need support. We love you," Dad says. Mom has always been the best with words, so she continues the conversation. "Please know that it's ok to need support baby. It doesn't mean you any "less": we all have areas where we need help and that's ok. I know you have the resilience to get through this, that is one of your many talents. I love you to the moon and Saturn," She says, kissing my forehead.