I try to look put-together.

Today, while I was walking to my fifth period class, I was approached by a friend.

“Oh my gosh, Abigail. You don’t look so good.”

“Really?” I asked, trying to seem interested in the conversation. “Do I look like I’ve let myself go that much?”

“Yeah. You look like you’ve just gone through a breakup.”


It’s weird, because most of the time I try to at least make myself look like I haven’t hit rock bottom. Sometimes I just can’t care, so I choose the yoga pants and hoodie option. Apparently people notice. Also today, another person told me, “You’re not wearing your sweaters and collared shirts like normal.” I mean, I don’t think it’s anyone’s business what I wear. Everyone has their off days, right? (Or so I tell myself every day.) Pointing out that my hair is extra-frizzy–yes, I got a comment on that, too–is not going to make me fix it. I’m not going to go home and change into my Orvis sweater because someone told me I should. Gosh. People annoy me.

Everyone gets so concerned because they realize that “Hey, you don’t have any friends at school.” That’s not true. I have friends at school…like two, but two is a start, right? And it’s not like friends are my number one priority. In fact, I’m happier not talking to anyone in the cafeteria. It used to bother me, but it really doesn’t anymore.

I really think my sense of humor has become a little more self-deprecating and defeatist than it used to. And I recycle the same jokes. Like the elevator one I made up:

“The school elevator is only open for injured kids. What about emotional injury? Like, I’ve lost my motivation in life. I can’t get up the stairs.”
“Can Life-Alert get me out of bed in the morning?”

I mean, I think it’s kind of funny. But hey, better laughter than no laughter! This day turned out maybe 2 percent better than I expected it to be. It’s a start.


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