She stares at the board, not truly seeing. Her mind is racing, thoughts being processed at an immense speed and getting jumbled in the process. Her lack of concentration soon becomes apparent and a too-loud voice interrupts the storm raging inside her head. “Why aren’t you paying attention? You don’t even try. You can’t succeed if you don’t try.” A recurrent stream of phrases that all mean the same thing to her – she simply isn’t good enough.
But how am I supposed to focus how am I supposed to try I just want to die make it all stop put an end to it p l e a s e
I am never good enough for anyone I’m never enough I don’t matter
All that matters about me is the number on my tests and the number on that scale and maybe if I make the right amount of cuts maybe if I swallow the right amount of pills maybe that number will finally make me matter
She’s so caught up in her own thoughts, lost in her own sad little world, she doesn’t even notice the people noticing her. All of her energy is spent on believing that she isn’t good enough, that she doesn’t matter to anyone; she doesn’t see that she means the world to the boy who sits at the back of the room.
