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Myself, I think… actually I don't know.
Myself, I think… actually I don't know.
The sound of leaves rustling on the window outside, the shadows of leaves falling off branches, its fall. My favorite season. My reflection in the mirror shows no emotion, strange. It's crisp outside, like granny-smith apples, but I’m not throwing on my jacket, I’m not running down the stairs, instead, I’m staring at the knot in my hair, each individual strand woven over the other. I didn’t check my phone. I haven’t responded to my brother's text since Wednesday. My responses are mumbles, my outfits are just layers of fabric over each other, clashing colors, no thought given to them. Strange.
I've lost myself. The indent in my bed of where I've remained for days, the bottle of shampoo still has the same amount as it did a week ago, the cup of water with just a sip left on my nightstand. What happened? How can I explain to someone that something is lost? Are they going to assume death took it away, or perhaps I’ve misplaced it somewhere? If it's not an “ It”, then what?
My teacher is speaking about this poem about losing who you are, ironic huh? She asks us to turn our cameras on to show we’re listening. It's September 15, 2020. It took all my strength to push that little gray button, but I did it. She states in the poem, “ They asked me who I was. I responded with my name, for what else was I to say? They shook their heads and asked me again," who are you?"...they whispered, "I don't know", I saw my vision beginning to cloud with tears. I have lost myself inside a world of pain and grief. I don't know what my heart desires, nor what makes my soul smile…to understand my heart, but only I can find myself again.No one else but me. And I'm okay with that”. Wow. The breeze of my AC points out the tear rolling down my flushed red cheek. “Alyssa?”, focus snapped faster than light, crap. My camera is on, she saw, they all saw, the stream, the wet dots on my shirt. I quickly turned off my camera, wiped my tears, got my life together, and focused for the rest of class.
The following week I went back to school in person. This meant I had to use shampoo making the amount go down, it's a start I guess. I ate breakfast, it was only toast, that's all I could get down before going to practice. Once I got there I talked to my friends, I kept my circle small to avoid being ignored and left out. They didn’t notice anything off, good. When the bell rang I knew that meant I had to drag my alive physically, but not mentally body to class.
Coming home from a dreadful day shot some form of good feeling in my head, but when my dad asked if I was feeling pizza for dinner I snapped. Like if the pizza was some very offensive word. Why did I do that? I quickly apologized and said, “pizza is fine”. As I stumbled up the stairs a rush of heat flooded my head, and steam came out in the form of tears. I sat on my bed and cried. Why? Well, I don't really know. I sat down at the table and ate my slice of pizza, just one, with 2 breadsticks, and half a cup of Pepsi, like always. After dinner, I went upstairs and decided to watch some Netflix. New girl. My favorite show. Suddenly my phone lit up, it was a message. Strange because I didn't text anyone.
Friend: hey are you okay, you seemed a little down today.
Awesome
Me: yeah no I’m all good just tired is all.
I lied, obviously. I hate talking about my feelings. When I do I just never think people are actually listening. So what's the point? Growing up all I got told when I felt down was “ oh gosh your fine” or “ get over it”. So I stopped. Back to my Netflix, in the episode, Jessica day gets laid off from her job. In an attempt to get her life on track, she became a “ shot (alcoholic) girl” for her friend's party. As the night goes on she knows deep down that's not who she is, she's a teacher always and forever. Now that struck something in my head, but I pushed it off cause I thought it was a headache. I went to bed.
The next couple of days went by in a blur. The weekend came, and it was a 3 day weekend. Thank god. Over the course of the weekend, my homework assignment was to come up with some goals for myself that I want to accomplish by the end of the year. Roughly 3 months. My list goes as follows.
Good grades
That's it.
I didn’t know what I wanted to accomplish by the end of the first semester. It clicked. I want to be complete. I want to find myself. So I painted my room teal, looking back at it I don’t like the color now, but I’m moving out in 2 years so it doesn’t make sense to repaint it. I rearranged my furniture 3 times, indecisive. I spent $215 on new decor on amazon, my happy site. Until it came, that's all I did to get a start on a new change.
I took a shower today, and the amount of shampoo went down again. I ate a full lunch, a turkey sandwich, chips, and a soda. I stretched for 20 minutes. I made my bed. I got dressed to go to Walmart with my dad. I bought a mirror, clothes, and lots of candles. I love candles. I came home and continued to do my homework, the list made an improvement.
> Clean room for the rest of the year, > Eat a full breakfast every day, > Stretch every day
It progresses.
I went to school the next day with my list in hand ready to turn it into my teacher. She looked at it and said “nice goals”. They weren’t that good, pretty basic if you ask me. I went along with it and sat down in my seat. During class, I noticed I was talking to more people, and answering questions more. I got a 90 on a paper she handed back. I felt a rush of heat come over, I didn’t think I did that good on it. I went to lunch and sat down with my friends. I asked if they noticed anything different. It was my hair, I actually styled it for once. It felt nice. I laughed, I felt joy, I felt comfort, but not complete. What was missing, what did I lose, My strength, my passion? I thought I got Myself back to normal.
When I got home that afternoon I decided to go on a run. Strange. I went for 30 minutes. The cool breeze, mixed with the sun rays on my face. The sky shifted from 10 shades of blue to every color of starburst mixed into one as the sun went down. I stopped in the middle of the tracks to soak it all in. I felt at peace. I felt secure. But not complete. I continued on my run and saw a squirrel, free of thoughts, just living life one day at a time. I went home, stretched, took a shower, and went to bed.
The following morning I woke up happy. I woke up in such a great mood it would make the orange slices smile. I took a shower, I used the last drops. I planned an outfit with colors that didn't clash for once. I got dressed up for school, why? I don’t know, but I liked it. I was feeling energetic, positive, and full of life. I ate Pancakes for breakfast, with fresh fruit, and a side of orange juice. I was on my way to school when I saw another squirrel full of life, with no thoughts about anything, just living, but in the visor. It was me this time, I was the squirrel. When I got to school I told everyone good morning, cause it was a good morning. I went to my classes and did my work. I talked to more and more people throughout the day. Even people I have never seen before. I went home, and I looked in the mirror, I saw each strand of hair non-woven over the other, they were straight. The leaves rustling on the window, and the wound of the whistling wind. I looked in the mirror, smiling. The mirror showed a smile on my reflection. I knew I was complete. I was fulfilled. Will I ever know what about me was missing, what I lost? No. I didn’t care. I was better. Losing something doesn’t always have to be a bad thing. Sometimes things need to go missing to see how much you really cared about them. If you didn’t notice you lost something then it wasn't important. I couldn't let myself slip away and go unnoticed. So for me losing myself was a blessing, not so much a curse. I found Myself
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