What’s Behind the Plastics

I’m not going to lie. I’m not trying to be cocky, confident, or overly self-conscious; I’m only interested in telling the whole truth and nothing but that. I guess I have to start from the beginning..

I don’t put any pictures of myself on this site for a reason, because if I did, you would find yourself laughing at each entry thinking “there is no way this girl hates high school.” And I agree with you. If you saw my picture or if you saw me around school, you would all draw the same conclusion: this blonde, blue-eyed, popular cheerleader doesn’t know shit about hard times. I’m popular, I’m not gonna lie, I’m in that one clique patronized in every coming-of-age movie created, the one group that only socializes with the jocks, thinks that “everyone wants to be them,” and every guy “wants” them, or in reality wants something from them. I’m one of them; I may not be the head cheerleader, but I definitely have a reserved seat at the table. But I’m not who everyone thinks I am. In fact, if everyone, my school, guys, my friends knew who I really was, I probably would eat lunch in the bathroom just like many of you.

When I was a freshman, I went through what my therapist has called, a “regression.” I was so caught up in trying to maintain this perfect image that everyone thought I possessed, that I became obsessed with it. I became overly prude, was extreme OCD about academics, to the point where I didn’t socialize with anything, and eventually made myself very sick, mentally and physically. When I came back to school for sophomore year everyone was shocked, I come back “a new person!” or as some guys said I “lost the stick in my ass.” These comments were always followed by laugh or two but never dwelled upon because after all I had grown into this image they saw me as; the perfect blonde who had everything she could possibly want out of life. What no one seemed to grasp was that it was a constant struggle and still remains to be one in my junior year. I may the cheerleader, sure, I may be blonde, I may hook up with guys (and all popular ones) quite often, but I have to work so fucking hard every day to not implode.

I take daily medication to “mute my brain,” to help silence the nagging and anxiety created by my conscience, telling me that everyone is better and more deserving. Most days I feel like total shit: worthless, disgusting, overweight, unattractive, unwanted, unloved..but the worst part is most of the time I truly believe I deserve nothing better. But once again I’m the cheerleader, I must be perfect! How could I have problem?! Everyone loves me!

 

Most of the time, I don’t even love myself.

It’s hard to walk around when everyone thinks they have you figured out. Next time you see that popular girl, don’t write her off as stupid, or perfect, she’s probably misunderstood. So grow to understand before you judge her.

         

                                                              

 

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