I open my eyes. It's 5:50 am. My alarm clock is screaming at me for what seems like forever until I use my left hand to turn it off. Sitting up, I looked around my room. Mostly, it was dark. But, with the bit of light the rising sun provided, I was greeted with clothes, art stuff, and paper scattered around my floors. I was overwhelmed and upset that I never cleaned it. And I tell myself almost every day to clean it.
Why was I like this? Just once I want to actually accomplish something I tell myself to do. But it probably won't happen so why should I try? Why do I try at all? Maybe I should just stay in bed. Never get up again.
Forcing myself, I got up and got dressed. I grabbed my blue hoodie and decided to go with my black hoodie. It'd been chewed by the puppy so I could put my thumbs through little holes on the sides.
My room still overwhelmed me with all the mess, so I left and headed elsewhere.
I went into the bathroom and turned on the light. I felt anxious when the light came on because it was so bright. I squinted and took a quick breath. Opening my eyes, I felt calmer. I began brushing my hair. The texture of my hair felt nice on my hands. The bristles on the brush felt nice on my face. Felt pleasing for some reason.
Every morning, I had almost the same routine. Get up, get dressed, brush my hair, get the newspaper, let the dog out of his kennel, eat, brush my teeth, and leave my house and walk to the bus stop. And I liked it that way. Everything was in order and structured. But it also kind of was sad because there was no variety. A blessing and a curse, if you will.
My puppy was happy to see me. Setting my backpack on the table, I flipped the light switch. My eyes adjusted to the change in lighting. Opening the kennel, my puppy came bounding towards me, wagging his tail and making happy bark-like noises. Laughing, I scratched him behind his ear and he followed me into the kitchen.
The tile floor felt cold on my feet but a good a good cold. I reached for the cereal and got a bowl out. Kuro (pronounced ku-do), my puppy, sat next to me wanting whatever kind of food I had.
His eyes were brown and black but had a bit of blue in them. his eyebrows were raised. His black fur was soft, especially his ears. HJis ears were like velvet. I liked the feeling of velvet. The texture feels good running through my fingers. I felt his ears in between my fingers as he tried to lick my hand.
My Dad and brother came downstairs. They both were really loud. I felt uncomfortable. hey were really loud and I couldn't handle it. I put my headphones on. Megadeth was playing. Closely, I listened for the bass guitar and drums.
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I walk in the front doors of my school. It's 7:04. I wipe my old gray vans on the dark red rug below me. My eyes scan the hallway. Lockers line the left side. The dark red paint was chipping off. The dark red color of the lockers really didn't go well with the tile floor. And the tile pattern was pleasing the way they were placed. The lights reflected off the floor. I felt calm. I felt happy.
But, I didn't want to be here.
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The bell rings. I am immediately overwhelmed. The hallways are loud, and it scares me. I don't like making eye contact with people. I can't read facial expressions well. So, I don't look at people. Everyone is taller than me and is moving so fast that I can't keep up and get pushed back into other kid's way. And now I'm causing more noise because I'm in the way.
Hallways are like the road. Some people know what they are doing and respect the rules. Hallway rules are unwritten but everyone knows them.
They're also scary. When I get overwhelmed, everything seems louder, faster, closer, or all three at once. But, I have to use them to get to my classes. Putting my earbuds in, I inhaled and quickly made my way into the hall.
Everybody was really tall. Jackets, flannels, hoodies, and blurs of backpacks were I could process. The floor below me felt crowded with so many other kids moving twelve different places at the same exact time. Each step I took, all I saw in front of me were backpacks and jackets. A kid to the left of me had a gray backpack. I looked at the stitching and how the pattern was intricate, tight, and exact.
Sum 41 was playing in my ears. Deryck Whibley's voice was soothing. My heartbeat began to slow down a bit and I could breathe a bit smoother. At the same time, the music made me want to jump up and down. Just start jamming.
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At home, it's 6:14 pm.
Why am I like this? My head hurts, I can't focus like a regular human being, I can't be more positive like a normal human being. Why was I born with a brain that doesn't function normally? Nobody notices how much I struggle. But if they find out what I'm struggling from they'll look at me differently.
In my room. It's 9:56 pm
Tony and I aren't together anymore. And I feel like a big weight was lifted off my shoulders. Sure, it hurts, and I'm crying, but it's better than being in a relationship I wasn't happy in.
I cry myself to sleep.
YOU ARE READING
A messed up teenage diary
Non-FictionEver since I was young, just about everything was difficult for me. Now, I'm 16. Not much has changed. Join me in my attempt to make it through my high school life with 7 mental disorders and a dark past.
