The Anomaly Affliction

Three

20th February. A week and one day until my vaccines.

Oh, and one week until my sixteenth birthday. I forgot about that.

It's Friday today, which means I'm going to school. Great. I don't like school. I don't like the lessons, I don't like the teachers, I don't like the crappy uncomfortable uniform...I don't like anything about school. Anything, that is, except the breaks.

I don't really have any friends at school. Sounds tragic, I know, but that's just the way it is. No one really wants to be friends with the depressed girl. But that's okay - I have Lake. We hang out every break and lunch time. She has friends of her own (she's not as much of a loser as I am) but she's mostly happy to just be with me. Sometimes, though, she wants to hang out with her own friends, which is totally fine. She actually encouraged me to hang out with them once. It was a little weird, and I was definitely socially awkward, but they seemed pretty nice.

This Friday is long and boring, like every day. The only vaguely interesting thing about today is a conversation between my literary studies class and teacher, Mr. Nixon. He tells us to pack up five minutes early, and then asks: "So who's getting their vaccines next Saturday?"

Three people in the class raise their hands. Half-heartedly, I do the same.

"Wow, four of you? That's a lot for one class," Mr. Nixon says, smiling. Of course he's smiling. Everyone's smiling. "So do any of you have any questions about the vaccines?"

"Do they hurt?" one of the other three people asks.

"Not at all," someone else in my class says cheerily. He's already had his vaccines. I'm pretty sure his birthday was in December.

Another person who has been vaccinated adds: "It's like a teeny tiny prick. Then you're done, and it feels amazing."

"But what about that IV drip one?"

"That takes a bit longer," Nixon replies. "But not too long. It doesn't hurt."

A girl who's being vaccinated on the same day as me raises her hand and says: "Uh, I'm scared of needles."

"Well," Nixon replies. "Just think, after these small injections, you'll never be scared of needles again. Doesn't that sound great?"

"Yeah...that's a relief."

Several other voices shout out comments and questions and answers and I decide to just put my head down and listen.

"Sir, is it scary?"

"What if they don't work?"

"What's an IV drip, sir?"

"Which emotions do they get rid of again? I can't remember, I'm failing biology..."

"I can't wait."

"It's so exciting!"

"We'll never be sad again!"

There are a million things I want to say in response. But I can't - I'm the depressed girl who never talks in class. No one wants to hear what I have to say, anyway. Months ago in literary studies I expressed an opinion about a poem from centuries ago, something about what the poet might've been feeling, and everyone who hadn't been vaccinated told me I was "spreading my depression" and "trying to ruin their moods". Consequently I tend to keep my mouth shut in lessons.

The lesson ends and the day continues. All day my head tells me that I don't want the vaccines. But then another part of my head asks: "Why not?". It's like an internal battle in my head all day (you know, besides the whole 'trying and failing to fight off my depressing thoughts' thing).

I don't want the vaccines.

Why would I not want the vaccines? They'll cure my depression.

They won't work. Because of my depression.

Don't be stupid, of course they'll work.

But what if they don't?

No, they will. Just think: after these vaccines, I'll never feel like shit ever again.

I deserve to feel like shit.

But Lake doesn't deserve me feeling like shit. She's really excited for us to get the vaccines, so we can be happy together.

But I feel happy when I'm with her. That's the only time I ever feel happy. And without feeling like shit, how could I properly appreciate the times when I don't? What if Lake and I end up like Mum and Dad?

After a lot of internal arguing, I end up telling my brain to shut up, and conclude that I'm getting the vaccines and nothing can change that and it doesn't matter.

I fucking hate my brain.