I am a stociosist. Which means as a sixteen year old girl I am unaffected by the feelings around me. It’s come in handy to not be effected by drama or the loss of a friend. But it’s devastating when someone feels sorrow and you can’t even tell him or her you understand. I’ve had that happen in my life a couple times and I’ve been called a bad friend, or bad girlfriend because of it. And on top of it I’ve had to let go of people because of my ability to not feel anything at all. This is the story of a girl who doesn’t have a meaning behind a smile or frown.

I woke up this morning with a blank look on my face. It’s normal to not shown an expression. It’s how my days start and end. It’s sunny out today in the middle of March. And it’s about seventy degrees so it’s going to be nice to sit in the sun. My little sister is jumping around the living room, excited for the fact that she gets to go swimming. I never understood how she could be so happy over sunshine. But every time I yell at her for being too excited about something she would always tell on me and get me grounded. Great start to my morning, huh?

School isn’t much different though. People wave and smile and so do I. but they have a reason why they’re happy but when they ask me why I am I say, “Because you smiled and waved.” I never have my own reasoning. Today was a good day though. My friend told me a guy liked me. I didn’t have the inclination to respond. But it’s nice to know somebody’s interested. But next week the guy will just be a face in a sea of other companionable faces. Nothing to special, and nothing that will make my day “happy” or “brilliant”. That’s a normal school day for the, “psycho girl” or the” freak with no emotion”. Yes, those are the names that I get called. Most people don’t even know my real name.

Today was an exquisitely bland day. Nothing to exciting happened. My heart wasn’t broken, my heart wasn’t stolen, I didn’t laugh at any jokes that were thrown my way, and I didn’t cry at the mean words that were suppose to be sticks and stones. But there is a secret I’ve been keeping. Yes, stociosists can keep secrets. The thing is I haven’t always been diagnosed with stoicism. A year ago when I was a sophomore I had the best life. All the friends you could want, that gave you nights you would never forget. I had the perfect boyfriend that made me fly high. At that time I believed in happiness, and being excited. I believed in miracles. But when all that went away so did my smile and the meaning behind it. I was just so numb that sadness was out of the question. From that day forward I could no longer feel anything. This is the real story of my secret. This is the story of a broken girl diagnosed with stoicism