134340 “Pluto”

I never thought I would consider myself lost. I never thought I was lost. But, in a way, I had been, for a very long time.

I just didn't know it yet.

It's weird how long you can not be okay before you realize that you aren't alright. It's weird that you can be totally broken for days, weeks, months, at a time, and think you are fine, think it must just be hormones, or maybe you're just PMS-ing, but then one day it just hits you - you're not fine.

Just imagine that for your whole life you think you are something special, someone important, a chosen one of sorts. And then suddenly, you aren't. Suddenly you're nothing but a shadow of what you used to be, or what you used to think you were.

That's what happened to me.

Maybe I was never special in the first place - maybe I was never anything more than a dwarf planet in a solar system of regular planets.

I spent my whole life believing I was smart. High achiever, high grades, high test scores. I was on top of the world and nothing could take that away from me. Maybe I had a sick family member, and maybe I had health issues myself, and maybe I had friend problems, but I had my mind. I always had my mind and nothing could take that from me.

Until August. I was sixteen and ready to take on the world. Ready for my junior year. I was unprepared for the challenges that would come that year. I didn't know what awaited me. How could I?

December. I consider ending everything. I'm on the adventure of a lifetime, surrounded by people I love, and I have never wished for death more.

How did I get there? How did I go from being so happy and loving my life to wanting it all to end?

August. School begins. My courseload is difficult. I'm no longer "special." I'm just average compared to the brilliance in my classes. For the first time in my life, school is hard.

My best friend Miranda moves across the country, to California, of all places, and tells me we'll stay in touch, but my world crumbles nonetheless.

September. I do badly on an AP Biology exam, and my parents crack down on me. I work harder. I sleep less. I just have to get that grade up, and nothing else matters. Without my grades, I am nothing. Dark circles form under my eyes, but I keep working.

I wonder, for the first time, if it is normal for a person to hate themselves as much as I hate myself. I ignore the thought, and get back to work.

October. I audition for the school musical. Guess who doesn't get in.

I schedule a doctor's appointment. Surely this much self-loathing isn't healthy. Miranda still won't answer my texts.

November. I cancel the doctor's appointment. I'm fine. I have to be. I don't have time to be anything but fine. I get back to studying.

I do well on a test in Biology. I'm ecstatic, but my parents are less so. I need to work harder, keep up the hard work. An A- is good, but an A would be better.

December. We fly halfway around the world, to London, to visit my dying Grandfather. It's supposed to be the trip of a lifetime. No one says anything, but we all know that the next time we come out to England will probably be for the funeral.

My thoughts spiral in my head and won't stop, and I cannot keep myself from the negativity. I'm worthless. I'm nothing. And I'm so darn sad all the time. There is no point in continuing to live the way I'm living. Every day I wake up and hate myself. I don't want to keep living.

I tell my parents.

I cry.

They cry.

January. I start seeing a therapist. She tells me to think five positive things every day. I laugh. That's a lot of positive things. I don't know if I can do it. She tells me I can.

My therapist instructs me to think five positive things about myself every day. I laugh and then cry. Why am I like this?

February. I FaceTime Miranda for the first time since she moved. She's tan and happy and just radiates goodness. She's doing well. I cry a little afterwards. It doesn't seem fair.

I try to write down ten positive things about myself. I takes me days to make it to seven.

March. I get an 'A+' on my biology lab report. I smile for the first time in what seems like years.

I make it to eight things I like about myself.

April. I go and watch the school musical. It's good. Somehow, I don't feel so bad inside about not making it. I probably couldn't have emotionally handled it anyway.

Nine! Nine things I like about myself! I'm so proud I call my therapist and tell her. And my parents. And my grandfather, for that matter.

May. I have bad days still. I cry a lot. But I look at my list of nine things I like about myself. It makes me feel better.

I go to junior prom. I don't bring a date, but I end up dancing the night away with a girl I'd never met before. She says her name is Ariel. I have a lot of fun.

June. I turn seventeen. Ariel takes me to the movies to see some superhero movie as a birthday present. It's kinda dumb, but in a fun way.

I finish junior year with all 'A's and a 'B' in biology that I'm very proud of. Though part of me is still sad that I couldn't get a higher grade.

July. Miranda flies out from California and we spend a lot of time together, just hanging out. I've missed her.

I make it to a tenth thing I like about myself. I nearly cry.

August. I volunteer as a camp counselor. One of my campers has a panic attack and I'm able to calm her down. That makes me feel a little better.

It turns out that college applications lowkey suck. I call Ariel and vent for a really long time.

September.I finish my applications. It takes over an hour to work up the courage to hit 'submit' for my top school. Somehow I'm scared that I won't be good enough. I can't help but worry. I cry.

I switch my therapy appointments to every other week, which is a thrilling feeling. It makes me feel a little better inside, knowing that I've improved enough to need it less often.

October. Ariel invites me to her house for a Halloween party. I meet a lot of new people, and, against my better judgement, end up having a lot of fun. It's my first time truly having fun with a big group since this whole ordeal started over a year ago.

I audition for the school musical. I make ensemble. I call Miranda and tell her how excited I am to have made it. I tell Ariel and she gives me the biggest hug.

November. I write down a list of everything I am grateful for. It's a long list. Number one on the list: family. Closely followed by number two: happiness.

I call my grandfather every day. I don't know how long we have, so I try to make it last. It feels good to talk to my family.

December. It's weird that it's been a year since I nearly ended everything. I'm still not fine, but I'm doing a lot better than I was a year ago.

I go to Ariel's for a New Year's party. When it hits midnight, she kisses me. I'm surprised.

I kiss her back.

I never thought I would consider myself lost. I never thought I was lost. But, in a way, I had been, for a very long time.

But then I was found.

It's weird how long you can not be okay before it starts to get better. For me it took over a year.

But it came.

It came.

I found myself. And my friends found me. And I kept going. I kept living. And even though I was crying myself to sleep at night for the better part of a year, I was able to be found.

I wasn't valedictorian. I wasn't still the happy and brilliant teenager I had thought myself to be. In the grand scheme of things, I was a dwarf planet - small, relatively unimportant - but still there.

I guess, in the end, that's all that matters. That you're still there.