anxious teenage queen here 💅

I want to be the first choice

I want to be someone’s someone

But I’m not

Everyone else has their somebody else

And I fade into the background

I’m the comedic relief

I’m the sidekick they keep around because I can’t fend for myself

I’m the stupid one with the good heart

But it’s not good enough

I’m not good enough

I’m not good enough at anything for anyone

I’m not smart enough to be first place in anything

And I’m not pretty enough to be anyone’s first love

I’m not good enough to be anyone’s first choice

I’m no one’s someone

I’m a good person

But I’m not good enough

To combat all my failures

I fail

And failures don’t get picked

I’m the cupcake with squished frosting

I’m the stuffed animal with a tilted nose

I’m the library book with dog-eared pages

I’m not perfect enough to get picked

I’m not good enough

I’m no one’s someone

I’ve had fantasies of bad things happening to me and those closest to me, and getting attention, pity, and love because of it, for most of my life. Is this normal? No. Does it mean I am a bad person who actually wants bad things to happen to the people I love? No. Does it make me self-absorbed to crave attention that badly? No.

There’s always a reason that people do things “just for attention”. And it is rarely what people think it is.

I grew up feeling so guilty for doing things for attention, and ended up not getting the attention and help I needed because of that guilt.

Self harm is a good example of something that is often said to be done “just for attention”. And you know what? Yes, I have hurt myself for attention. And nobody understood why I would do something like that to myself.

But when you are so desperate for someone to see you, to hear you, to help you, that you would literally die to get someone to show they care, it makes a lot more sense.

You're having a bad day? Let me pause my whole life so I can help you with that. Let me give you that book that is so so special to me knowing I won't be getting it back. Let me play along with your cruel jokes, tend to your wounds and carry you across the finish line