The days go by as though I have all the time in the world, but I don't have enough time. These days have become more frequent lately. And I hate it. These days have me feeling hopeful that It will get better, but it never does. Even though my friends, my family, and even my teachers care for me at least a little bit, I still feel hopeless. As though my purpose has disintegrated over time.
I was told that I was a cute child, and that I was anything my parents could have asked for. I beg to differ. I was not an average child to say the least. I was born quite a bit above average weight for a baby, and I was born with quite a bit of hair. They say that I was such a good kid. I cringe at the thought that my parents thought I was an amazing kid. It doesn't help that my mother has 3 other kids. So you could probably guess I was the middle child. It really started going downhill in 4th grade.
'4th grade? That's really young..' Yeah. It wasn't that bad I guess. I'm suuper sensitive apparently. It started with a boy in my grade, kinda bullying me in a way. He help me against a wall, by the throat. He was much taller than I was, so he had the advantage. No, nothing bad happened to me. He threatened me and went off with his friends. He was the type of kid who would bring knives to school. He brought a lighter to school once and set the neighboring house's grass on fire during a fire drill. Ironic. But he had been mean to me ever since. But it really affected me in 5th grade. He had poked me and all of the sudden started commenting on my weight. Even though it was only him making fun of me, i felt as though others did too. I started wearing hoodies year-round, never to be seen without one. Even at home. This lasted till the middle of 6th grade. I had become more comfortable around my new friends i had made. My friend group in 5th was just like the boy, so i left them. I started to wear looser t-shirts and skinny jeans. And what do you know, i started getting compliments! That was a breakthrough. It also got me my first girlfriend! I forgot to mention that I was pansexual at this point in time. That relationship is the only relationship I have had (well only between then and Nov 9th 2021). She is a beautiful person, and i miss her to this day. Our 6th grade relationship actually made it about 8 months. That's pretty good, considering we were in 6th grade and not allowed to go anywhere. But i wish I could've at least kissed her or something, just to show my love in a way she could understand. I consider myself abusive in that relationship though. I was rude, we fought for at least 5 out of the 8 months, I hit her a couple of times, and it still hurts because she broke up with me. But why do I feel like the victim? She is obviously the victim to my abuse, and yet she brushes it off. We are best friends currently, but have not spoken of the relationship in about a year. I find this infuriating. Why does she not feel hatred towards me? Maybe she did and didn't express it? Either way, she has shown no sign that i had done something wrong, and it makes me angry. Whenever i try to tell her what I did, she just brushes it off. 'oh it's okay, you didn't do anything, you're Okay!'. She's acting too nice and she needs to be honest with me about her feelings.
Part 2 coming soon. It is 4am, so I'll write again another day.