opia; matty healy.

3%

The friends I've had throughout most of my life have always failed to stick around. The lengths of my friendships began to get shorter and shorter as time passed. The first friendship that I can recall was with a short boy named Tommy in the first grade. He wore large frames and his mother dressed him to look like the epitome of a school "nerd".

The kids at school never really teased him to begin with, which may have been the first sign that the friendship wouldn't last. But we hit it off. We'd colour in together during drawing time and share each other's coloured pencils while everyone else fought over theirs. It was an instant connection and an innocent friendship, but after two months he began spending time with the other kids in class and rarely spoke to me anymore.

So I made friends with a few girls in the class over the next year, never growing super close to anyone but always sharing secrets as much as keeping some. I was a gossiping, eight-year-old minion by the beginning of second grade, constantly used for the benefit of others and never minding as long as the company was there. These girls were always trouble, and I realise this when I look back on the next year and a half of my life. They would share my secrets and turn me in for things I'd never done; they'd spread rumours and call me names, and they were only nine years old.

Eventually one of the girls got into a serious car accident, and during her few months in hospital the group fell apart unwillingly. When she came back and announced she was moving away, I couldn't wait. She was the reason I'd spent most days crying after being ditched in the bathrooms by the people I called my "friends". That group was the beginning to my troubles that still continue to this day.

When third grade came around there was a new girl in class. She was tall and tan, with long, brown hair flowing below her waist. My hair was also long; but an ugly blonde and it didn't reach past my non-existent boobs. We made friends easily and I found that she had a personality that complemented mine. She'd dealt with bad friendships in the past as well, and on top of that had a lot of issues at home that made her sympathetic towards my situation.

This lasted for a month at the most. Her sweet and kind attitude began to be counteracted by the popularity and attention she was receiving from both guys and girls. Although we were merely ten years old, she'd gone to the effort of smashing my phone after I got the same one as her, claiming she had it first and there was no way I could be seen with the same one. The worst it got as a young, pubescent girl, was when she kissed the boy I liked.

Knowing I had a crush on our friend Jake, they put the title of "dating" upon their relationship anyway. It was crushing, but the friendship lived on far into the sixth grade. We'd had large arguments, and I spent most nights crying – as well as occasionally during school – but most of the time I crawled back in defence, apologising profusely for things I hadn't done.

In sixth grade we had a group of friends very similar to the friends I'd made in first grade, after Tommy forgot about my existence. I was forced into things I didn't want to do, peer pressured into exposing secrets and lies and hurting people I didn't want to. I shifted myself to fit in with the ideals of a popular primary school girl, but that's all it was: primary school. We were dumb, and twelve, and completely immersed in the idea of being liked whilst carrying "bad girl" personas. It got me in trouble with my parents, the school, and the people I thought were my friends.

For the last couple of years of middle school, I moved. My family had relocated to a different suburb and so I was sent to a public school in a nearer area. Things got a little better from here. I made friends and got through the next couple of years with a smaller amount of drama in my life. Nonetheless, the last few years had taken a toll on me and I spiralled into a silent darkness filled with self-diagnosed depression and anxiety.