If you’ve ever read John Green’s An Abundance of Katherines, you will know of the mini existential crisis that the main character, Collin, has, in which throughout the book he slowly begins to realise that he is not quite as special as he would like to be.
I am a smart girl, and I know that, but there’s something in me that always wants to be the smartest, if you know what I mean. Everytime my friends achieve something, I get a niggling feeling in my tummy that it could’ve been me; if I’d TRIED HARDER or if I had PRACTICED MORE or if I had MORE TALENT or if I was PRETTIER. And, while some of these things are under my control, a lot of them aren’t, and I need to realise that.
I take rejection badly, especially in things that I care about, and this often overshadows the achievements of people I care about, in my head. For example, in fifth class, I tried out for Sciath na Scoil, a competition of Irish sports between schools, in camogie. I didn’t get in, and that crushed me at the time, so much that I could barely be happy for two of my friends who did get in. What I did do, however, was practice super hard for the year after, when I managed to get in after all. That said, I was still really bad, and the team lost all their matches, but I think that’s OUTSIDE THE POINT THANK YOU
My point is, I don’t know if I’ve really matured any since then. In sixth class, when I didn’t get the part I desperately wanted in our class play, I burst into tears. Last year, when I didn’t win something I thought I maybe had a chance at, and someone who put a whole lot less effort into it than me did, I (almost) burst into tears. This year, I didn’t understand something in Tech Graph, got a nosebleed, had a panic attack, and burst into tears. Again.
I’m not sure what the point of this post is, maybe to show you that I’m a terrrible human being or that there’s something wrong with my tear ducts.
I always start out my posts so full of ABANDON and POTENTIAL :’)
KISSES MY SURELY DISAPPOINTED DAHLINGS