one word biography

Layla welsh

English

period 5

08/26/21

Lost

I am lost, I have to wear clothes that overflow onto the ground. Dragging behind me like a ball and chain. Lost because I realize that I am not the person who wears big baggy clothes. The bitter taste of embarrassment resonates in my mouth as the other mothers eyes burn into my soul, their eyes filled with pity. I ran to my father, his arms hiding me from the world. The smell of cigarettes on his breath is disgusting yet somehow feels like home. I tell him “i'm going to get laughed at.” he sighs knowing he does it for my protection and yet i still feel lost. I can hear the laughs of other kids sear into my brain as I already know when I go to school tomorrow I am going to be lost. The baggy clothes soon feel tight around my neck as I walk into school. The kids in my class look at me, their eyes scalding my skin. Each kid slowly starts talking to another thinking I can't hear their remarks. Those remarks have slowly shaped me into the self conscious person I am today. But that's not who i want to be.

The time I broke down in the bathroom in 8th grade but no one was there. I taste the salty tears as they drip down my face, the release of tension in my head and shoulders as I let a giant sob out. It echos and yet still no one knows I'm here. I am lost. I don't know who I am or who I've become. Am i the person they want me to be or am i the person they thought they knew. I shudder thinking contradictory statements over and over again in my mind. I am a good person. But I am a horrible person. I'm healthy. But I'm having a mental breakdown. I feel good in my skin. But I hide my skin with those baggy clothes. THOSE DAMN BAGGY CLOTHES HE MADE ME WEAR. IT'S ONLY BECAUSE OF THOSE CLOTHES THAT I LIKE THIS. I found everything that my dad did to raise me, things I hated, and blamed him for it. I start think “IT'S ALL HIS FAULT THAT I DON'T KNOW WHO I AM,” or “IF HE DID NOT CONTROL EVERYTHING I DID MAYBE I WOULD HAVE LEARNED WHO I WAS SOONER.” At this point I wasn't angry anymore. I was sad. “Why don't I know who I am? Why am I so lost? Why is this bathroom so empty.” If I had stopped to think that maybe it wasn’t his fault, I would have realized sooner that everybody at that age didn’t know who they were. And yet somehow I'm still lost. Holding on to this easiness of losing yourself is why I have become so lost, I see myself in an ocean floating endlessly until I find myself. Somehow I end up back in class again. Calm, but still lost.

The therapist's office closes in on me while the ocean in my head swallows me whole. My hands start to feel clammy. I start to lose sight of the office. Grasping the arms of my chair to try and pull myself back to reality. My mouth is dry with nothing but bad breath to taste. The lemon air freshener makes me sick as I think about the situation. I blame my nausea on the air freshener. Everybody around me looks concerned. As if they can see what was going through my head. The doctor and therapists reassuring voices are muffled by my thoughts. My loud thoughts. I don't think I will ever understand why my thoughts were so loud. The thoughts that are telling me to keep everything inside, “act like nothing's wrong” I tell myself. There are so many thoughts up there that I start to feel lost. At this point I let go of the chair. Reality has completely slipped away. I am now drifting through this mess of a brain. Stumbling on my invalidating thoughts. I slowly find my way through the maze. My way back to reality. I take off full speed. I am suddenly awake but we've ended up in the car, heading home.