I smiled, and I learned to pretend
I don't have very many childhood memories
But the ones I do have, aren't happy
--
I remember being scared at a very young age
Being lost and alone
--
I remember being sad
So upset that all I could do was cry
--
But I don't remember ever being happy
--
I don't know if there are documented cases of depression at such an early age
But I am convinced that I was a depressed little girl
Undiagnosed until I was 15, but I'm sure it started as early as 5
--
--
I was always sad
I didn't want to wake up in the mornings
I didn't want to go to school
I remember, literally, crying over spilled milk at school
And the awful, hollow ache in my chest, as I tried so hard to hold in the tears so they wouldn't spill over in front of my classmates
--
The many bathroom breaks so that I could go cry all alone in a stall
--
The funny excuses and explanations of why my eyes were always tearing and watering
--
--
I couldn't eat
I came home every day and yelled at my mom for sending me too much food
So every day she sent a little bit less
Until I was only taking a few carrot sticks, a couple crackers and a junior juice
And still, I couldn't finish it all
--
--
I was so tired of being the one with no friends
The one who would rather spend recess in the corner alone
Curled up in a ball, playing with the people in my head
--
I learned my lesson fast
No one likes that child
So I used the summer between 1st and 2nd grades to practice
--
And when I came back in the fall
I told my "friends" that they'd have to wait until school ended
I had to play with the "real" people during the day
--
I came into my classroom on the first day of school, a brand new girl
Faking perfection, I had so much potential
--
I took a deep breath
Put all my Kleenex in the garbage can
And walked inside
--
I smiled
I made friends
And I learned to pretend
But the ones I do have, aren't happy
--
I remember being scared at a very young age
Being lost and alone
--
I remember being sad
So upset that all I could do was cry
--
But I don't remember ever being happy
--
I don't know if there are documented cases of depression at such an early age
But I am convinced that I was a depressed little girl
Undiagnosed until I was 15, but I'm sure it started as early as 5
--
--
I was always sad
I didn't want to wake up in the mornings
I didn't want to go to school
I remember, literally, crying over spilled milk at school
And the awful, hollow ache in my chest, as I tried so hard to hold in the tears so they wouldn't spill over in front of my classmates
--
The many bathroom breaks so that I could go cry all alone in a stall
--
The funny excuses and explanations of why my eyes were always tearing and watering
--
--
I couldn't eat
I came home every day and yelled at my mom for sending me too much food
So every day she sent a little bit less
Until I was only taking a few carrot sticks, a couple crackers and a junior juice
And still, I couldn't finish it all
--
--
I was so tired of being the one with no friends
The one who would rather spend recess in the corner alone
Curled up in a ball, playing with the people in my head
--
I learned my lesson fast
No one likes that child
So I used the summer between 1st and 2nd grades to practice
--
And when I came back in the fall
I told my "friends" that they'd have to wait until school ended
I had to play with the "real" people during the day
--
I came into my classroom on the first day of school, a brand new girl
Faking perfection, I had so much potential
--
I took a deep breath
Put all my Kleenex in the garbage can
And walked inside
--
I smiled
I made friends
And I learned to pretend
posted by kathryn at 2:46 p.m.
1 Comments:
learning how to pretend is ironically the greatest yet the worst skill we will ever learn... one wishes to express what they truly feels... but they must create a mask in the end... today... everyone we see has their own mask... (everyone past their tweens...) some have many, some have masks that come with fake pasts... everyone tells us that we must bottle up our feelings and thoughts... but... isn't it alot better to carress a face without a mask? why feel the hard porcelean when you can feel the soft tenderness of truth and innocence...? do you ever wish to take off that mask and hope one can carress your true face instead of brutally scratch and hack at it?... these are desires that I hold in my heart... I guess we both have went through hard times... we both found the solution that would help us both live in society... but after a while... we are faced with a new problem... our masks are starting to become stuffy... when do we take our masks off though...? that is the question...
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