Depression Is My Kryptonite

First Period Bullies

Getting bullied for being smart. That's logical according to my first period class. Being in a group by myself because I can't overcome my social anxiety long enough to allow myself to be associated with the narcissistic ass holes surrounding me, that's all that they want from me. Their comments are deafening. Crying at the beginning of second period, unable to breath, cold warmth consuming my chest. This is what elementary and middle school was, getting bullied constantly because my brain is quicker than everyone else's. I still might cry. I want to, I need to. The pain is consuming and controlling. I hate first period. I hate that they won't leave me alone. Their rude remarks are still flooding through my ears, just like these fucking tears. I need a hug. Eb just sat there, not knowing what to do. I just need a nice hug to possibly help me relieve some of this overwhelming stress. I can feel the tears bubbling up again. The cold warmth won't abandon me. It's oddly the most comforting thing that's happened to me today. Isn't that a shame? Will you hug me? It'd be quite lovely to receive a small condolence. To be offered a shoulder to cry on. Something, anything to get rid of the comforting pain and stop dreading uncontrollably about what those ass holes think of me. Ow. I don't want to stop now, but I probably should. I hope it'll leave their subconscious, maybe they'll forget. Although that doesn't happen often.