Well, dear anybody who just happens to click on this diary entry. I don’t exactly know what to write… I guess I should be spilling out all my life secrets and insecurities and stuff, but I don’t know…
I can at least give it a try.
OK, here goes nothing:
I am known as the girl with no emotions. People don’t obviously say that to my face, but they do talk about it behind my back or when they think I’m not listening. I don’t understand gossiping, though. I mean, when we’re in line to get lunch, I’m literally right behind them and they just scream that I have no emotions and there’s something mentally wrong with me. I’M RIGHT BEHIND YOU AND I’M PRETTY SURE PEOPLE FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD COULD HEAR! Honestly, it just annoys me so much.
I’ve never discovered why people think I’m incapable of having emotions. I get angry. Annoyed. Sad. Happy. Jealous. Afraid. I experience the full set of emotions, so why, WHY am I know as “Robot Girl?”
Hmm… Maybe because you don’t show them…? There’s a thought.
So, fine. I don’t really show how I’m feeling. I laugh when I see something sad happening. Things that used to cause me to breakdown and cry just make me feel… nothing. I treat my life as if I’m in some stupid comedy show and the more I laugh, the more happier I’ll be. What’s wrong with that?
Isn’t it really unhealthy…? Like it’s mentally unhealthy and draining.
Whatever. I just want to be happy. IS THERE ANYTHING WRONG WITH THAT?! It gets frustrating though, because some people have seen me before I decided to be more positive and optimistic. Like that time before I reached 11 years old, when I used to burst into tears every single minute of every fucking day. And how I was a sensitive b*tch. They still remember the horrible day when I started weeping and wailing over an ICT presentation because it was an animation of animals being eaten and cooked. Oh, God. That was a nightmare. Everyone came and comforted me and told me that they died happy. Yeah, kidnapped from their parents, babies murdered in front of them, heads chopped off and seeing your friends die around you, knowing you’re next. Yeah. They must be in freaking fairy-land.
I became a vegetarian after that, and people soon realized that I cared deeply about the world and animals, so when we were watching animals being dissected they were supportive and told me not to look. I thought that life was great and they actually cared about my well-being.
And now… when we’re doing about animals and sad stuff about them in biology, everyone looks at me, trying to catch a glimpse of pain, or even a tear. Nothing. Just laughter. I hate it when people try to HUG and COMFORT me because they think I’m about to have a mental breakdown or start crying or something. No. NO. I don’t need your sympathy. I’m NOT crying. I’m laughing. As in, I’m HAPPY. They all disapprove and ask me where “the real you went.” No where. This is the real me now. And the other one’s never coming back. Why? Well, only one person actually knows why, and she was the reason I became like this in the first place.
Don’t bother trying to find her, because she’s probably dead.