|The Thoughts of a Teenage Girl
Author: Head Over Heels Is Standing PM
The personal thoughts of Jamille Amia. CompleteRated: Fiction T - English - Chapters: 10 - Words: 3,319 - Reviews: 1 - Updated: 03-18-13 - Published: 03-05-13 - Status: Complete - id: 3106369
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
"Perhaps it's impossible to wear an identity without becoming what you pretend to be." -Orson Scott Card
I should be doing homework right now, but I can't seem to bring myself to do it. I'm so tired after my first semester in high school. 4.4 GPA, and now I can't seem to get my work done. What's wrong with me? You would think the first semester would be harder, but nooo. Its the second with me. I don't know. Maybe I'm not giving enough effort.
Anyway, my life seems really messed up right now. I fall asleep around three AM, mainly because of excess homework and my new pet rat that seems to love drinking out of his noisy water bottle only at night. My mom is always yelling at me or praising me for the weirdest things. I'm punished for eating a 'special expensive gum', and praised for laying my pills out at night (which I didn't do, but don't tell her) or bringing in my clothes from the car after golf practice.
And that's another thing: Pills. I hate them. They are to help me with my allergies and ADHD. The allergy ones help and I don't mind so much, but the ADHD ones make me feel...I don't know. Insufficient, I guess. I hate that I need a pill in order to function in school.
I hate my ADHA and love my ADHD. It gives me creativity, but I can't do things as fast. Homework takes me twice as long as it would someone else, and because of that I am given extra time to do it. I hate special treatment. I'm just as good as everybody else. "No" my mom says."Your ADHD makes you better." Well screw it. I'm too ashamed of what people might think of me if they found out. My classmates already judge me because I'm the only one allowed to type my assignments. I just want to fit in and be normal. I'd give up my creativity in a heartbeat for that...
But then again, how can I even think about giving up who I am?
And there is the real question. Who am I?
Am I the nice, confident girl everybody thinks I am? Or am I the girl who cries in the shower because the water hides the tears? I'm the only one who knows the real me.
I wrote part of a song a while ago. One line makes me furious and heartbroken at the same time:
"Why can't you see the things I mean when I say something else? Why do you believe everything when it's obviously just a scam?"
Do my friends not know me enough to see that I'm faking? Or have I done it so much that it is normal, and no one suspects a thing?
Just something to ponder, I guess.