dear m.f. ✎ septiplier

dear m.f. [1]

kids.

everything was easier when we were kids.

friendships, fights, school, what to do in our free time.

the topic of friendships resonates with me. literally, walk up to some fun looking kid and say "hi! wanna be friends?". not much to it.

but as anyone over the age of ten has realized by now, making friends is a lot harder. a lot.

you try to say hi to someone. if you're like me, your anxiety kicks in and you panic.

fuck what do they think of me? is my hair weird? shit i'm shaking. my clothes probably look off. fuck i said that weird. why did they look at me like that, what did i do? i should probably walk away now, they probably think i'm annoying.

and just like that, it's over. barely even talked to the person and you don't even have a sliver of a chance to be their friend.

because, even if they didn't think you were strange at first, they most likely do now, watching you try to fix a mistake mid sentence that you didn't even commit.

because of this, my friend group is small. extremely small. in the sixth grade, i surprisingly made a lot of friends. because they were like me: lowest class of a new school, a new environment. scared, alone. they just wanted someone to talk to. i wanted someone.

sixth grade was amazing. my friends and i were slightly cringey, but that was way back when. when we didn't care, when we weren't scared to be ourselves and only cared about what you think of yourself.

then seventh grade hit. not the worst year, but not the best either. at this point, i had begun to notice how my friends had changed. they were just... different. they were egotistical. self centered. bullies. they put their own thoughts and desires above mine and openly spoke out for them, not caring about my feelings or if and how their words affected me.

not all of them were like that of course. i had this one friend, signe. my best friend during this time. we're still close to this day, just not as much as we used to be. that's another story for another day. but seventh grade signe. she was amazingly kind and funny, and was always there for me. she made me laugh, she made me cry, she made me smile. i loved her and i always will.

and my other closest friend at the time, felix. the best guy i could ever fucking ask for. at the time, we were going through some ups and downs but he was still there. always was. a lot of people disliked him. they said he was annoying, loud, not needed. so i guess while he helped me, i helped him too. by being there for him, while he was there for me.

he's also gay, so that made everything even better.

they made life a bit more bearable during the time. they made me smile when i thought i couldn't.

now, eight grade was... rough. extremely. it was at this time that my anxiety began to kick in. i was scared, nervous. i always had something to fear, it felt like. still feels like it, to be honest. this year, my friends had started to become unbearable. they consumed my waking thoughts, how i was going to be able to deal with them the next time i saw them. they caused immense stress on my life. i feel like i worried about them more than i worried about myself. everyday was a new battle and each battle was apart of this gigantic war on my emotional mindset.

and then when signe moved (she didn't move far, but i wasn't able to see her everyday. and she wasn't there to help me through each battle, wasn't there to distract me.) i lost it. the first day she was gone, i was out of it. broke down in the school bathroom for the first time that day. but of course, i couldn't tell anybody what was wrong. when the bell for seventh period rung, i bolted to the counselor's office, avoiding everyone's eyes and everyone's questions.

i slowly accustomed to a new life at my school. a life without someone there to protect me.

in a way, i did get better. my stress and anxiety levels were as high as ever, but i gave a couple of my friends a second chance. but still.

i cannot express to you how happy i was for that hell of a year to end.

freshman year, a new start at a new school. i felt naked, like someone had just walked in on me taking a shower. it wasn't horrible however. i was super fucking happy to be able to start over and meet new people, as hard as it can be. it was just difficult to become accustomed to high school life.

not much happened between freshman and junior year. a lot of ups and downs, obviously. i think the most exciting thing was relationships (oof) and the fact that i did began to see someone for my mental illness. i've been on medication for about a year now. i've been exercising and running everyday; a simple way to relieve stress, my doctor told me.

and i've been getting better. slowly, i haven't made it to 'cured' i guess but. i'm getting better.

i think.

i hope.

i doubt.

and now where do you come in? to be honest, i don't really know myself. you're just someone i met by mistake. someone who has impacted my life more than they should've.

i don't know wether it's safe to say you ruined my life or changed it for the better.

all i know is that i'm a boy with a steadily decreasing (increasing? maybe) mental health. a boy with a desire in his heart to become someone to someone.

a boy who needs you.

—— sincerely,
j.m.

;;

liz starting a new story before finishing another one she barely even updates? unheard of !!2!0

i really don't know where i'm going with this story but i hope it turns out ok y!kes

psa: some of the stories in the,, story were based on real events that happened in my past b ye

—— liz