I Am

I am six years old, and my favorite number is seven. My mom’s birthday is August seventh. I cannot wait to be seven because I know that it’s the best number, and therefore must be the best year of my life.

I am seven years old, and I hate all numbers especially seven. The doctor says that I have a kidney infection. My cousin has had more kidney infections than I can remember. My uncle has my aunt’s kidney because his didn’t work right. Do mine not work right either? Kidneys become my least favorite organ.

I am ten years old. I have my birthday party at the movies, and we go to see High School Musical Three. I even have a pinata with all the characters doing the classic High School Musical jump on it. I lay on the floor that night in between my cousin and my best friend. I don’t sleep because all I can think about is how I’m a decade old now. I decide I want to have seven more decades at least. I’ve gotten over my hatred of the number seven. My cousin doesn’t sleep either. She takes my arm and leads me into the kitchen were we mix sherbet with Sprite. I drink it all even though it’s the worst tasting dessert I’ve ever had. My cousin likes it, so I do too.

I am twelve years old. My cousin has moved into my house, and it’s the best thing that could’ve ever happened. I learn how to remove the window screen so that I can crawl out onto the roof and watch four am approach to the sound of The Pursuit of Happiness. My cousin always has friends over, and my mom can’t know. My cousin teaches me where to hide things and how often to change up hiding spots. We crowd around the family computer, and she lets me pick out the pictures and captions to put on her Tumblr, but tells me that I’m too young to make my own. She gets a concussion the same day that I break my wrist. We call it fate and spend the day at home listening to Incubus in her yellow bedroom.

I am thirteen and my cousin no longer lives with me. I spend the summer sleeping in her bed and waking up crying. This isn’t when the night terrors began, but this is when they became permanent. When I stood in my own room, it felt abandoned. It was an empty, lifeless room I stayed in my cousin’s room because bits and pieces of her were still there: the hole punched into the door, the loosened window screen, the rock on top of the roof. There was no life in my bedroom, there still isn’t. I learn that I’m not the only one in my family who’s like this. I don’t visit my aunt in the hospital, but I learned the definition of suicide that summer. I didn’t know it was possible until then. I still thank God everyday that she went to the emergency room and not to the funeral home. 

I am fourteen and I sleep in my own room again. I find new ways deafen the silence inside of it: my earrings, Breathe Me by Sia, and my boyfriend’s depression. I preoccupy myself with thoughts of only other people. I’m no longer a human, I’m just a vessel. A way that people get from point A to point B. I sail people from depression to happiness and back again. Just before four am has lost its magic, it’s just after that that gives me hope. So I turn in my night owl’s card for one that reads “morning person.” I throw out my black eyeliner pencil because it’s too obvious. I buy clothes with color, and I keep myself so busy that I can’t think. My boyfriend needs me to happy, so that’s what I do. I smile way too often. I laugh at jokes I don’t find funny. I funnel all my feelings back inside myself. I greet my law guardian happily and lie about everything I’ve learned as I always have, as I always will.

I am seventeen, and I’ve just downloaded every Incubus album onto my iPhone. I no long feel sad when I hear those melodies. I remember my cousin, but I don’t think about the nights I laid in her bed willing myself to disappear. I lose all but one of my friends because I break up with the boy who has depression. Turns out his depression was mine. I’m a hot air balloon after that, I rise higher and higher until I can’t tell my hometown from the town next to it from the town next to that one. I graduate high school. I donate pieces of my heart to all my classmates in a commencement speech that spells out my forgiveness and my solidarity. I decide to go to some college four hours away from home because the thought of being any closer makes me sick.

I am nineteen, and I am impossibly happy during the day. My life is full of learning, leadership, and advocacy. I do only things that I want to do which includes never looking back. I miss my mom at all times. I feel my future at all times. I am transitioning from the taught to the teacher. It’s wonderful. I never stop moving, ever. I take more credits than I need and join every club I possibly can. My life is a bicycle, it must be kept in motion to keep from falling over. I smile, and it’s real.

I am nineteen, and I am impossibly terrified at night. My dreams are full of faces I left four hours behind. I only half-sleep because their memories claw at my brain. They interrupt the normal dreams flowing through my synapses. The only time I stop is at night. I wish I never had to sleep because I’m sure that I could find things to fill the time. Why do I keep reliving my life at night? I thought that I had left it behind. It makes me wonder if I haven’t really moved on. It makes me wonder if I’ll ever move on.

 

-AcuteAnimosity

Headache

I wanted to write something today, especially since I’ve been writing so much the past few days. It felt really good to be back into the habit of writing at least 7 minutes everyday. However, my head is killing me. That’s nothing new, for some reason I’m just noticing it more today. I get a headache every single day. It happens at varying times and pains but everyday, I have at least one headache, sometimes more than one.

I have talked to my doctor about this, but of course he first asked if I was one my period (no joke, I was ready to kick him in the shins, also no, I was not on my period), and then he told me to just take pain meds every time I feel a headache come on. The amount of pain pills I would be taking if I did that would be a bit scary. If I can, I take 2 ibuprofens for headaches or 2 excedrins for migraines. It rarely helps though. If I’m getting maybe 2 headaches a day, that’s 4 ibuprofens, everyday. I don’t think that’s healthy.

My mom thought maybe it’s due to my allergy meds, I’ve been on them for years though so I doubt it. Then she asked if I wanted to talk to a social worker. Basically, no one will believe that maybe there’s just something wrong. Anyway, sorry that I am not writing anything creative today (even though I’ve gone months without posting before). Who knows? Maybe I’ll end up posting again today with something creative. I might just dig out an old poem and throw that up here. Until next time.

-AcuteAnimosity

Sorry!

I realized that I left you guys with a pretty raw and sad poem. Jeez, I think it’s been months since I’ve posted. Okay, so I have two really amazing poem ideas that I just can’t seem to figure out where I want to go with. So, there’s no poem with this, but I will update you guys.

I graduated high school

Okay, again, I graduated high school.

I’ve been blogging since I was in middle school, and now I am a graduate blogger. It’s surreal (for lack of ability to explain). I’m going to college in August. It’s insane. I’ve wanted to go to college since I was in kindergarten. No joke either, I have actually been working hard in school for the sole purpose of going to college since kindergarten. I remember my mom sitting me down one day when I was in kindergarten and saying “Listen, if you want to be a teacher you have to go to college. You aren’t going to get into college without good grades so you better start working hard. I know you’re more than smart enough to do it, but you have to actually try.” Every since I’ve been  Pushing myself harder and harder to have perfect grades. I graduated with National Honor Society and as a part of National Society for High School Scholars. Not only that, but guys this is important so listen up, I gave a speech at my graduation.

You heard me right, I gave a commencement speech. 400 students in my class and only 3 were able to give speeches. The Class president gives one, and two are up for grabs. Out of all the people who submitted speeches, and we are talking about class treasurer, the top ranked kid in out class, extremely popular and sporty kids, and kids who actually text our principal, I was chosen. At first a lot of people were livid. I’m just some nobody. This year though, I became somebody. I didn’t even see it happening. This year I was chosen for not one but two prestigious choirs in my area, I was in a traveling musical to teach kids about bullying, I got a lead role in our school musical, I was the editor-in-chief of our school blog, I sung the national anthem at homecoming, and I gave a speech at my graduation. A lot of people felt I didn’t deserve to give that speech. They thought they could’ve given a better one or that someone more popular should have given it. All that was before I stood center stage in my cap and gown to give my speech.

Once I started to speak, it was like I was holding the hand of every single person in my class. I spoke words that no one could deny. I mentioned every kid individually without even saying a single name. I gave a speech that made people laugh, cry, and think. I made people look past who was speaking and genuinely hear what I was saying. I said what everyone was thinking, but no one was saying. I talked about fear and love, I talked about not knowing what was going to happen and how that is okay. I looked my best friend in the eye and told her how much I loved her, while helping everyone else tell their best friend the same thing. My speech wasn’t about me. It was about every kid in my class individually and collectively. The outcome of my speech was incredible.

People I didn’t even know rushed up to me. My family, my friends, my enemies, and perfect strangers hugged me and wanted to tell me how my speech touched them. The number one ranked kid in my class told me they were so glad that my speech was chosen over theirs because they couldn’t stop crying through my speech. The video of my speech was plastered all over Facebook and people commented about how they wished they had that speech at their graduation and how it was the best speech of the night and how my speech was the only one they could remember from the night.

I’m sure there was some kid in the audience who hated my speech. I even said that during my speech, but the majority reaction that my speech caused was overwhelming. It was everything I wanted to accomplish with that speech. I say it was my speech, but really it was the class of 2016’s speech. It belongs to every graduate this year. I know that in reality, my speech hasn’t gone viral, it hasn’t changed thousands of lives, but it’s stuck in the few hundred minds that have heard it. That’s incredible. I never thought that my speech would even be chosen. After all, who was I? But it turns out that no one could’ve given that speech like I did. The other kid chosen to give a speech was a wildly popular kid. The class president was also wildly popular, but they are the minority. Kids like me are the vast majority in high school. I don’t mean kids who love to write and sing, I mean kids who feel like cellophane stuck to the lockers in the hallway. I gave that speech like it was the last thing I would ever do, and it vibrated in the hearts of my audience. It bounced from person to person, a melody that was sticking in their heads. I did something that no one can take away from me. I’ve never been so proud of my either.

I’m going to college to become a teacher, and I gave a speech at my graduation. I’ve accomplished two dreams, one I’ve had forever, and one I never knew I dreamed of until it had already come true. That’s incredible. If I can do it, so can you, so can anyone. I know this is shamefully cliche, but guys, go for your dreams. You can do anything. Love you guys, till next time,

-AcuteAnimosity