Life used to be terrible for me. I cried almost every day. I don’t know if I was depressed mildly or severely, or at all. I could feel myself fall apart little by little every day. I don’t know what happened. Actually, I do. I was so upset with the way I looked, so self conscious. I became too obsessed with the whole popularity game with the boyfriends and dating and crap. And then I was beginning to be left out a lot. I was shattered. I found myself hanging with a group but no one to actually connect with. Then I was with a small group that was already formed, one being one of my friends already. Two of them were one of those instant best friends, they did everything together. They had all classes together and laughed together and they even had/have the same goal in life. One was said friend; the other was a new girl that moved in the beginning of the year. She wasn’t an automatic popular or popular at all. She was timid and shy, and nobody talked to her. I hated her so much. I blamed her for taking my best friend away. It’s like I was replaced by her. I just wanted her to go back to wherever the hell she came from. I felt like she ruined my whole life. I wanted to be friends with her, but she would always push me away. She was nice, and she always seemed to have so much fun with my friend. Eventually we became friends, but the exclusion never stopped. Whenever I talked to one, they would always talk about the other. I cried a lot. I was on the verge of suicide. Sort of. It’s not that I wanted to die, but I would always wonder if everyone would be better off without me. Like I was a road block and an annoyance to people.

I wished that someone would’ve just been there for me at that time. I didn’t feel comfortable with talking to my family. Asians, they tend to overreact. They would probably freak and send me to a shrink. I didn’t feel close to them at all. I did, always have, and will, keep my friends closer than my family. On some level, I know I love my family. They’re family, of course I love them. But I don’t feel particularly comfortable with them. They’re gone through so many harder things; I didn’t want to add to their troubles. I know my parents want me to share my life with them, but I decided to just leave it. I’ve always depended solely on my friends, and it was at that point I realized it could be somewhat annoying. I decided to leave it there, too. At the time, I didn’t really know what to do. I didn’t know what to do anymore.

Now, things are different. I don’t feel self-conscious anymore. I am definitely not the prettiest or skinniest girl in the room, and I do have my days where my hair is messy or I break out. I don’t have a boyfriend, either. But that stuff doesn’t get to me anymore. I don’t care what other people think of me. They think I’m an ‘arse’? So be it. I honestly do not care. Over time, I found real friends who really care about me. Why should I want a boyfriend at this age anyway? More likely than not, things last less than a month. 2 at the most. I look back and just feel pathetic. I shouldn’t have let that stuff get to me. It doesn’t anymore. I’m not letting it get in the way of living my life.