Depressing One Shots

the fog on the glass

this is the prologue to the book I'm trying to write called the fog on the glass (title is a work in progress and won't make any sense yet)

tell me what you think in the comments because I'm hoping I might actually be able to stick with this book long enough to finish it. :)

Humiliation. The end of a teenage girl is humiliation. And I'm not talking the mom is dancing weird kind of humiliation, but the kind of humiliation where you're not exactly humiliated because of some action that was made deliberately at you but you feel upset anyways. Like how all my friends are dating someone and have had their first kiss and all that shit. But you know, typical Charlie, nobody even thinks she's cute except for that one 12 year old who lives in Illinois and being a 16 year old girl who lives in Louisiana, the idea was not appealing.

No matter how I dressed or how much makeup I put on, nothing seemed to work. Males just weren't attracted to me. It was as simple as that. Sure, it wasn't fair, but there wasn't anything I could do about it. I just had to sit back and watch as my friends, family, and the rest of the world kept moving on with their lives while I stood there frozen, unable to change my fate.

My friends told me I needed to get out more and that if I did guys might start talking to me. Might being the keyword there. There's never a 100% probability that a male is going to talk to you and for me it was hardly ever even a 50% probability. I was what you'd call a male repellent. I was like bug spray but instead of using me to get rid of bugs, you would use me to keep boys away.

I tried all the perfumes and all the brands of makeup. I wore skinny jeans and crop tops hoping that maybe someone would notice. But no one ever did. And I was stuck looking ridiculous because I ended up feeling embarrassed about my choices and then my mom would yell at me because crop tops "aren't flattering" on me. Which was basically her finding yet another way to tell me that I'm fat.

Which sucks because I told myself that all the time and I thought moms were supposed to tell you that you're beautiful and it doesn't matter how much you weigh, and all those things that make teenage girls feel better about themselves. All my mom did was make me feel worse. I mean it's no wonder I was depressed.

The worst part about it was that I told everyone and they all dismissed it and thought I was being dramatic. Ok, I'm sorry that I exaggerate things too much but that was not what was going on. It took a lot of courage for me to say something about it and I wish you hadn't forgotten that I told you I was in pain.

And just like every other time I started to feel good again, something happens and I was back to giving in to the demons atop my shoulder. You didn't understand how much unprompted tiny actions can change the mood of my day so you don't ever seem to care enough to try anymore.

You don't get that even though I dismiss compliments, they still mean a lot to me because they counteract the voices in my head telling me the exact opposite. You just can't comprehend how telling me that I did really well in dance today, could make my day better, because it doesn't make that much of a difference for you. You don't even know that one particular sentence could make me cut less at night. But you also don't care enough to ask.

Well okay, that's not fair. I'm sure if you actually understood that I had depression you would ask and make sure I'm okay. But you didn't believe me when I told you or if you did you didn't really acknowledge it.

Also just a PSA to all guys. THERE IS NO HARM IN TELLING GIRL THAT SHE'S CUTE. Literally none. By telling a girl this, you have just made her day brighter, given her a bit of a confidence boost, and helped her ignore a bit of her self-hate. Who cares if you have a girlfriend? It's not like you like this girl. You legit just think she's cute and you can think a girl is cute without liking her. I'm pretty sure our brains have the capacity to do that.

I mean maybe just maybe one of you could quite possibly think a girl is pretty without liking her. I mean how hard can it be? I think a ton of guys are hot but i don't like them because I know they are douchebags. So clearly it's possible. I mean maybe it's not, maybe girls are just superior and far more capable but I'm going to put my faith in mankind and hope that they can figure it out.

Here I go again, on and on about something pretty much only I care about or at least that's how it seems. Maybe someone else goes on rambles like this to but I'm not really sure.

I wished I could be normal. Which I understood is an arbitrary wish because normal isn't even really a thing. It's the unreachable goal. But I also knew that some people get closer than others. But me? I was about the farthest from it that a person could get.

I was the school nutjob. After the hallucinations started, I knew I was done. After I started crying in class because the beeps in my head were really loud or because I saw a man in the window but no one was there.

On the social scale you could be popular, semi-popular, a nobody, or a geek/nerd. I somehow managed to find myself underneath the scale. Not on it but underneath it. I was underneath everyone and no spot on the scale could truly grasp it. So I was under it.

After a while, even my closest friends seemed to abandon me. And though anyone watching would say that they stood by me the whole time, I knew and my friends knew that even if I had people surrounding me at my lunch table, I was still sitting alone.

And it sucked.

At first I would try to explain what was going on with me to them, but every time they had some sort of excuse. You're just sleep deprived or I'm sure you just need to eat something, you haven't even touched your pizza. And even sometimes they just dismissed it as one of my usual exaggerations. They stopped caring and so did I.

After that I stopped paying attention to their conversations and just spent all of lunch staring out a window wondering what my life would be like if I had friends that cared.

And no matter what, I never felt like anyone's first choice for anything. If three of my friends were in a class I was never the one picked as their partner, they always paired with each other. No guy I'd met since elementary school had ever liked me or even thought I was cute. I mean maybe I was being dramatic but that's what it felt like.

It seemed as though everyone was having their different excursions in the co-ed world but mine were less than significant. In fact, most of my guy friends didn't even see me as a girl. I was just a tool for them to use to help them get the girls they liked.

I always seemed to help but no one ever wanted to help me. Like, maybe for once I wanted a guy to like me and I wanted to go on a date. Maybe I wanted to go roller skating and get pushed into the guy I liked so he'd be forced to catch me and then I could lean on him for the rest of the time. Maybe I wanted to experience the cute moments everyone else seemed to be having.

Maybe I wanted to be stuck in between two boys, having to decide which one to go out with. Maybe I wanted to kiss a guy, then have to deal with telling him I didn't want to date him. Maybe I wanted to have to figure out how to dump my boyfriend. Those were the problems I wanted to have.

But when I told my friends, all they said was "you don't actually want those kind of problems. Having to deal with them is so annoying and boys can be so needy. Also, kissing isn't that great." I didn't care if dealing with them was annoying, I wanted to be able to say that I had dealt with them. I didn't care if boys were annoying, I wanted to feel better about myself by knowing that they did like me or thought I was cute. I didn't care if kissing wasn't that great, I wanted to figure that out for myself. But they wouldn't understand, since they'd never experienced that true feeling of loneliness before.

And I guess I didn't expect them to understand, how could they if they'd never experienced depression or having their own brain tell them that they're not good enough and feeling that the center of the most betrayal they experience is coming from themselves.

But anyways these are things I thought about every night, and they're the reason I would go to school having only having 3 hours of sleep. Because I was up crying silently in my bed until 2:00am then waking up at 5:00am just to get to school on time.

And yet no one seemed to notice something was wrong.