tidal

I adopted nick-names like moody Judy, Wednesday (from the Addam's family), or prickly pear, because it was easier to mock me than help me.

and I was that kid in elementary that was dragged from recess to talk to the school therapist. not because my parents told the school I might benefit from it, but because my teachers couldn't understand why I never wanted to play with the other kids. why I was stuck in my own world, never to make contact with the outside.

but i had figured out long before that no one really cares what you have to say, so when the lady would ask me, "how does it make you feel when ---- excludes you at lunch?" or, "do you like mom or dads house more?" I would stare at the ground and imagine it was the sky.

I didnt like the sound of my own voice. I didnt like the way my stomach was round with baby fat, I didnt like the shape of my face and I especially didnt like that i had no say in anything at all. I was a spiteful kid, I didnt like my being alive because I would have never chosen this for myself. but as long as I kept my mouth shut, no one knew me, so they had no leverage over me. i liked that feeling.

now im 17. maybe i should've grown out of all that by now, but my way of thinking was always beyond me, and im not sure ive reached it even now. and I hate looking at baby photos of myself, I hate the smile on my face because I know theres an adult yelling at me to look pretty from behind the camera. but if you look closely, a photo is just an act, a painting to pretend for everything you could've been. and I could've been happy. I could've been everything.