Prompt: “Describe the best time in your life.”
I don’t even have to think for a minute about this question. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, the best period of my life included the months of April, May, and June of 2013. Let me tell you the story.
It was March of my eighth grade year. I was depressed. I was miserable. And then I wasn’t, just like that. It was quite abrupt. I had about a week of you know, just average Abigail. And then something happened that I will never fully understand…
Sometime in early April, emotions and a zest for life washed over me and swept me away. After having a period of having relatively no emotions, it was surprising to feel everything so deeply and so suddenly. Inspiration and poetry poured out of me freely. I walked the hallways of the school with total confidence (bordering on arrogance, as I reflect on it). At home, I wrote. I wrote into the early morning, went to bed for a bit, and woke up in the morning bright and eager to do it all over again. It was during this time that I actually finished something I wrote. I felt like a genius–and I arguably was. Every feeling that could possibly be felt, I felt it, and ten times more deeply than I ever had. I remember having outbursts of rage and tears directed at the “stupidity of my generation.” But this also meant that my happiness was intensified, and it certainly was. Everything seemed pleasing. I fell in love with nature and with myself. One day, I broke down into tears of happiness because I just “felt the beauty of leaves.” Metaphors came to me incredibly quickly–I could’ve found meaning in a piece of dog shit on hot pavement. Conversation was easy and effortless. At school, I meandered into bathrooms and began speaking to girls in front of the mirror. “You’re beautiful, don’t worry about it!” I’d say cheerfully. My attitude towards authority was flippant; I thought I was just too good and wonderful to adhere to rules. I recall sassing the principal and laughing about it. All my journals overflowed. I overflowed. Yet I was in control of myself. That’s why spring of 2013 was better than spring of 2014. There was no running into traffic or trying to smoke parsley and nutmeg out of a piece of toilet paper. There wasn’t any talk like “I hAvE pOWERS!!!!” I had all the happiness without the loss of control. It was mother-trucking awesome.
Admittedly, it probably wasn’t the best time for anyone else in my life, specifically any school administrators or authority figures! But if you’re strictly talking about me, I was having the time of my life.
How did it end?
I still don’t know. Eventually, I sort of became normal again. Sure, still creative, but not to the same extent. I regained my natural respect for other people. I felt confident some days, insecure others. I was simply Abigail again.