RooftopSinning's Autobiography

Fifth grade. Chaos. See, funny thing about that word, chaos, up until my fifth grade teacher told me how it was spelled, I thought they were two different words. I literally thought it was pronounced CH-AY-OSE.

Anyway, fifth grade. Chaos. The year when everyone in my class was trying to figure out who they were, while also acting like we're sixteen. Even though we didn't even know what love was.

In third grade, I made a different friend, on the sidelines of Maria, since even though she was off collecting minions, it was never okay for me to have my own friends. Her name was, let's say, Janice.

We met, because we had the Winter Music Show, like we did every year, and apparently Janice saw me at the bus stop (that was in front of our apartments. We lived in the same ones.) wearing the Oakridge soccer jersey my dad gave me when it was way to big on me. So anyways, she and her mom drove us to the show, and Janice and I became friends.

The only reason I wasn't immediately best friends with Janice, was because it was tricky entering her world. She was very social (and still is.) I was not. I'd sit in the back of class, while she sat in the front with her friends. She was friends with everyone. Her downstairs neighbors always glared at me, and hated me, no matter how much I set my walls down to be friends with them. You know what? I made myself vulnerable, and I got hurt. That's how it'll always be with me.

Janice's BEST friend, of all time, was Meghan. Yeah, that was her real name. I just feel like she deserves for me to use her real name, after all the shit she put me through.

Meghan always hated me, and I NEVER knew why. A few times in fourth grade, I tried switching worlds, and at lunch, I'd try sitting with Janice. But would Meghan make that easy for me? No.

(I'd like to say, at the moment, I'm crying while writing this. It's becoming clear that the school years third through sixth were the ones that broke me. I'm not being overly dramatic, I'm LITERALLY crying.)

Meghan always made sure there wasn't enough room for me at their table. I felt like I needed to scream and cry, every fucking time she made me stand there, holding my yellow lunch tray, waiting for someone to make space for me. This, this was the year I learned what anxiety felt like. I didn't know what it was, I thought everyone had it, at the time. I'd just stand there, starting to sweat, being scared to death, that me standing and waiting would mean everyone in the cafeteria could see me. I'd look around, but even if no one was bothering to notice me, it always felt like all eyes were on me. I'd stare intensely at Janice, trying to speak with my eyes, since I've never been good with words, but she'd either keep talking with her friends, or look at me, hopelessly.

I can't begin to explain what it was like, to go through THAT, and then find a table to sit at, all alone. You want to know the worst part? The table was always the same one. In the middle of the cafeteria. Kids who had no where to sit, would look around, and I'd think, "I'm right here. At this COMPLETELY stranded table, and you can't even sit here for ten minutes?" They'd manage to squeeze in next to some stranger. I would sit at that table alone, watching everyone I knew laugh and talk with their real friends, and be reminded of how complete trash I must be, to go through this. The fucking lunch MONITOR, felt so bad for me, she'd try talking to me, but I hate being that kid. The one who needs the teacher to talk to her so she doesn't look alone. I'd keep my sentences short, but I did that with everyone. It's funny,looking back, I always had so much to say, but I'd never say it. I always held back.

Meghan would glare at me, and if I ever really got the chance to hang out with Janice during school, Meghan would look at me completely DISGUSTED the entire time. I remember one time, Janice was going to the bathroom, and so I gathered up every inch of courage I had left in me, and spoke.

"Hey, um, why do you hate me so much?" I asked. She'd fix her red haired ponytail in the mirror, and look at me, like she's concerned for my health.

"Because, you never give Janice's clothes back." She'd say simply.

Let me explain that one: In third grade, I was really selfish (but weren't we all? Like, really.) and I'd ask Janice if I could borrow a shirt every once in a while, since I was always so insecure in my own clothes, and I loved how hers looked on me. She'd say yes, and she'd get it back like a month later. I know, I was awful when I was a kid. Heh, if you ask me, I still am awful.

I hate writing about these stories, because everything I did in elementary school I hate myself for, but I guess I really need to let this stuff out.

So, then I'd explain to Meghan that it was because my brother never did laundry. Lie. I always forgot to put it in the laundry. Lie. I liked how it looked it my closet. True. I'd keep it in my closet, clean, until Janice asked for it back, and then I'd give it back. I never liked my clothes. Everyone always made fun of them, even though I loved them so much. Just another reason my self esteem went down. I remember I constantly craved approval, even when I knew it'd never be given.

Kelly was the school drama queen. Every day in line, I'd ask her:

"How do I look TODAY?"

and every day she'd answer:

"Still ugly."

(Still crying.)

Meghan would tease me, and pick on me everyday. Did Janice ever do anything about it? Nope! She didn't fucking CARE. Yet, she still claimed I was her best friend.

It still comes in waves. The pain. The loss of who I was. My mom tells me all the time, I've changed, and I'm not who I used to be. I know she's right. I pretend that I haven't noticed, but I do. I know what happened, too. I broke. I snapped. I gave up.

In fourth to fifth grade, I was madly in love with this guy, his name was Eliot. His real name, yes.

(DISCLAIMER: I'd like to make it clear that it's obvious I'm using real names of people who have played a part in my depression: Meghan and Eliot, but the reason I'm not with Maria, even though she was the start, and my entire family hates her, is because I know her still, and she's completely changed, so just in case somehow someone from school sees this, I don't want them digging up all this drama with Maria. I haven't even said a lot of it, to spare her the embarrassment. Also, I'm not writing ANY of this for attention, or so people will feel bad for me, I PROMISE. I'm only telling the truth in these.Haters out there can hate all they want on these, it's okay by me, my life is fucked up enough as it is. Makes no difference to me.)

He was the second person I fake dated. Except with HIM, he actually liked me. He'd follow me everywhere, hug me, talk to me, we were friends before we liked each other, but this just made us more close.

Ha, the only thing is, after third and fourth grade, I made sure I was never myself. Ever again, at least at school. I was a COMPLETELY different person. In my mind, when people tried breaking me, they'd only break the fake me, right? The real me was still in there somewhere. No. (crying so hard, hold on.) I managed to keep my two lives separate for fifth grade. But as my counselor said, it's impossible to keep two worlds apart, because eventually, they'll come crashing into each other. And they did.

The real me? She doesn't exist anymore. She's gone. All these years of being the amazing actress I've always been, have backfired. Now, at home, I'm the same I am at school. I'm guarded, I'm quiet, I'm snobby, and act popular. My mom has been so confused with the attitude change. My world's came crashing together. But instead of colliding, my school cover, was suddenly smashing who I was at home.

Sighsies. Anyway, basically the deal with Eliot was a guilty love. I liked him, but I shouldn't have. I'd say something nice to him, and he'd shoot it down with something like, "That's nice." or "Oh. That's weird." even if it was like, "You're nice." or "Wow, good handwriting."

He never made me feel like I was an actual human being. Or that I could express who I was. He made it seem like he was MORE than me, somehow. Just like Maria did.

Anyway, somehow, since I never knew how a person should be treated, since I was never treated in that way, and I fell in love with him. I thought he treated me right, since I didn't know (and still don't) what it really was like to be treated right.

And I told him. I wrote him a... Oh my god I feel like a fucking idiot. Damn 5th grade me, get a grip on reality... I wrote him a love letter. Yep, make fun all you want, because I sure have. I gave it to him, the last words being 'and I think I'm falling in love with you.' this was three weeks before 5th was over, and we'd head to middle school. I didn't get a response.

Back to Meghan:

In fifth grade, Meghan, Janice and I were in the same class. She eventually became friends with me... And you want to know the SHIT Janice pulled after putting me threw hell with her downstairs neighbors and Meghan? She fucking acted all mopey, right as I was starting to be happy. Being a good friend, I asked her what was wrong, and to this FUCKING DAY, and I quote, she said:

"I just... * sigh * I feel like I'm the third wheel now."

THE FUCKING THIRD WHEEL. I HOPE YOU CAN IMAGINE HOW PISSED I AM REMEMBERING THIS SHIT. The third wheel? How the FUCK do you think I felt when Meghan would bully me? How do you think I felt when you'd just sit there and do NOTHING? How do you think I felt when she'd break me EVERYDAY, sending me home in TEARS, just so I could be friends with YOU?

I continued being friends with them. It was nice having that group.

Oh, and in fourth grade my mom told Maria's mom that she doesn't want Maria near me anymore, so way to go mom.

That makes about three years of being madly, desperately in love with Ivan. Yeah, I liked two guys at the same time, shut uuupp already. But it was different with Ivan. I'd do anything for him. I was like, the best writer in my grade, which made me super happy, so anytime I could, I'd help Ivan with an essay, since I was always the first one done. We made each other laugh. We made each other smile, and we loved talking to each other. But after fourth grade, I accepted that I made a mistake I'll never be able to live life, and was okay that he's never liked me. No, I guess it wasn't okay, BUT I let it go.

On the very last school day, at the very last minute, LITERALLY, Eliot turns to me.

"I need to tell you something."

"Okaaay." I said, confused.

"The last sentence." He said simply.

"What?" I asked.

"The last sentence." He smiles. It suddenly became clear to me, but I wanted to be sure.

"Huh?"

"Do you have a piece of paper?" He asks.

"Umm." I look around in my bag and hand him a receipt from Rite Aid. He takes out a pencil, and writes something down. He hands it to me, and the bell rings, him walking away, the next I'll be seeing him is in a completely different school. He walks past me, and out of the school along with everyone else.

I looked down at the receipt.

I THINK I LOVE YOU TOO

I smiled and screamed like a crazy person.

Notes