Peter's Journal

You're Spider-Man

**This is just something for myself. Based off somethings from my life. It's about time I looked at myself the way others do.

I read the newspapers as I sat on the side of my bed. "Spider-Man: A Menace To New York" the headline stated. Jameson really out did himself on this article. New York doesn't want me in their city because I almost let hundreds of people get killed in the middle of my battle...

I can't. I can't anymore. I want to throw the mask down. Beat myself up for the screw up I am. I'm not worthy of these powers for what it only brings is destruction. I try to save as many people as I can, yet others get caught up in my battles. They don't deserve to suffer with me... I don't deserve amazing people like them...

I swing off to the roof of a building and slump down with my knees up to my chest.

"Hello, God? This is Peter Parker. Can I ask for a favor? I know I've been your personal cat toy for the last few years... But can we not do that to me again for a while?"

I wanted to stop suffering. This stress was just too much at times, and it would get to me. My friends sometimes need me and I'm out there being Spider-Man...or I'm just...zoned out. Suddenly, I'm really on edge because of all the pending things I need to do for school. I can't tell anyone about this. I can't reveal to them that I'm Spider-Man. A failure at life. I'm not a superhero. Just some idiot in a spandex.

This is where my self doubt comes in. I don't feel I'm valued as much as I was back then. I've closed myself off to many. Everywhere I go, I see someone doing better than me. They're smiling and succeeding. I'm struggling and fumbling. I'm not meeting my own expectations. Expectations that are far too high compared to everyone else's.

I'm spinning a web that's too high to reach.

The next day, I go to school. This time, I'm just really out of it. I can't make coherent sentences. I'm exhausted. My sadness is attempting to override me, but I keep fighting.

I see my best friend, and she smiles and waves at me. I wanted to talk to her about what was going on, but she seemed to be preoccupied with someone...so I just keep to myself.

Third period rolls around. Our class was switched out since students were utilizing the computers in the lab. I walk into the class and she was behind me. She sat right in front of me and greeted with a funny line, "What up, nibber?" I give a faint smile. That's when she asked, "What's wrong? You've been like this for the longest time." I was caught by surprise. Something within me told me to hide it, but I decided that this was my chance to talk to her about it.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about this for a really long time. I'm not fine," I confessed,"It seems like my stress is crushing me. I feel like I'm alone, and I just can't keep going like this. I want to give up. Spider-Man can't keep saving people when he can't save himself." I pulled out my sketchbook and flipped to the first page.

"This is what it feels like," I showed.
She looks at the illustration then at me. "Why do you feel like this, though," she asked. "I'm not...meeting my standards. I'm not the person I want to be right now. I'm preoccupied with so much that I just don't have time to fix myself. Mom always insults me when she notices I'm struggling, but she doesn't know about what I go through and it's just so frustrating-" I explained with tears in my eyes. I wanted to cry. Just let everything out. I didn't care if I ruined my image in front of her. It didn't matter anymore. She saw the mess I have become. There was no use in attempting to recover.

"Look. Your self doubt are lies. You aren't what it tells you. You're not a failure. You're not another anomaly that's taking up space in this world," she assured,"You do matter. To me. To her. To everybody. You're a strong person. You help people whenever they need you. You always put everyone before yourself, and you still manage to keep going. Sometimes I ask myself 'How does he do it? He's always hustling to help us even when he's already got a lot to do.' I have a lot of friends, but you're the best one I could ever get."

I smiled and felt a little happiness surface. She picked up my sketchbook and flipped through the pages. "I'm never going to meet someone with such talent as yours. Look at these drawings! They're frickin lit!" She continues to flip through the book and stops at another page. "You see her? This beautiful girl. She loves you with all her heart. She's always going to be there to support you no matter what."

It was the illustration of a girl and I sitting next to each other. It was dated "1/29/18". The day I asked out the amazing girl I love.

"Who else is going to wear that Spider-Man costume?" She questioned. "Who's going to make these awesome illustrations? Who's third chair drum major in honor band? Who's going to strive to become a geneticist? You and only you."

"You're not a failure.
You're Spider-Man."