Most of the time I think that everyone is going to leave me. No clue why, but that is always in the back of my head. No matter how happy I am, no matter how fantastically my life is going, it's an ever-present worry. When I had one of the best weeks of my life at church camp, which made me stay for another, my mind was racing the entire time, as I believed my mother had paid off these two other campers to befriend me and bond with me. I didn't mention it at the time, because that would be crazy, right? Right. It was crazy, and didn't turn out to be true. My brain sometimes fucks up fantastic things. It does. I mean, who wouldn't be human if their brain didn't mislead them? Sometimes, I get mad at God for making me so neurotic, but you know what? He did that for a reason. He made me the way I am so I could get stronger over time. I think that if I believed no one truly cared about me, I would have killed myself a long time ago. Probably 8th grade, if not then, 9th. So many fantastic experiences would have not occurred. I wouldn't have discovered writing, I wouldn't have met so many fantastic people in my life, I wouldn't have learned that history is one of my true passions in life. I wouldn't have experienced my first kiss, the stomach-flipping experience of grinding at a school dance, the two-year heartache of Claire, the six-month period in which I contorted my brain to make me think I "loved" every girl that talked to me to get over her. I wouldn't have had the balls and the "Oh, what the hell?!" to kiss on the rooftop. I wouldn't have ever learned that life isn't too bad after all. I wouldn't have learned that it's okay to cry. I wouldn't have read Perks of Being a Wallflower. I wouldn't have been able to be myself around my two best friends. I wouldn't have finally gotten my license and driven around. I wouldn't have gone to college. I wouldn't have found out that being away from my house is one of the best things that has ever happened to me. I wouldn't have found out that I can feel truly content with what I look like. I wouldn't have found out that stopping exercising and stopping eating makes me miserable and sickly. I wouldn't have fucked up so many things. And you know what? I'm glad I can never truly believe no one cares about me. The good and bad things that have come from me not killing myself wouldn't mean as much if they were just good things or bad things.
"The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don't always soften the bad things, but vice-versa, the bad things don't necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant."-The Eleventh Doctor
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