Diary Anonymous

August 1st
-Me

Hello my name is Megan. For me writing this is my escape from reliaty to write how I really feel.

Because inside of me everything starts to build up. I am here writing this so you can read my personal story/diary. At the same time for me it releases my stress.

~also if there is anyone out there reading this going through similar things I hope this helps. And I hope you know that your not the only one out there!~

~The reason why I call this "diary anonymous" is because Megan is not my real name. It is a cover name I will be using as my own name. Same with others, my friends, family, and people throughout this diary will be useing cover names.~

My name is megan. I live with my loving family (mom, dad, and a 10 year old sister). I am half japanese and half american. i am also fluent in english and japanese.

To be honest I have a great life. And I know I have it good. I have my amazing friends, good grades, and an loving family.

And from other people I look like a perfectly happy girl, which i am when im infront of people. But inside I'm not, and no one knows anything about it. It's a battle against myself. Because right under the surface of my skin lies my insecurity.














August 1st
-volleyball clinic

Today I had a volleyball clinic. (Practice before a season starts) I play with a friend who is 5'10 while I am 5'3. She is one of the most athletic people I know and is amazing at volleyball while being outstanding in soccer.

When I'm standing next to her I feel like I'm nothing but unathletic.

During practice the coach Absolutly loves my friend, K. On the other hand I am not amazing but probably closer to 'not that great' than good.

I've deffinatly had less experience then most of the girls in my group at the clinic. And when I make mistakes (quite oftenly) they look at me with either pity that Im not great, or or a look that says 'wow shouldn't you be able to do that'.

And it hurts.
Everytime I make a mistake I know I think way to much about it and I can't help but automatically say "sorry!".

And it makes me want to cry, that I feel heat in my cheeks and moisture in my eyes.

I was greatful and it made so very happy when the coach said, "guys, you don't have to say 'sorry'" then looks at me with a warm smile.
I felt just the finest tinge of happiness that someone noticed how uncomfortable I was.

After that I tried my best not to say "sorry". And then I realized that by saying sorry it let out part of my stress or guilt from when I made a mistake.

Each time I realized I should of said sorry but couldn't beacause I didn't have to I felt like I had to fight back the tiniest of tears.
But I was happy.