Colour me white,
So I no longer fail,
Blow the veins to my heart,
Secure my mind with strings,
Weave the remaining embers to ash,
So my soul does not light up again,
That is all it will take,
To finish me off.
When I see my reflection in the mirror or in the window glass of huge shopping outlets, I can’t stop but think how I have disappointed my parents. They are ‘straight A people’ lovers. And I am a B/C student. A runner up. Family gatherings make me feel the worst. Am I not good enough to share the table with my cousin who is about to get in medical school? I still remember when i was seventeen my Dad stopped talking to me for 2 months straight when my results slip came home. I did pretty bad, not gonna lie. But you don’t do that to your child. Instead, you help your kid overcome their weakness. You wrap your arms around them and say ‘Its fine baby’.
I had to find my own grounds after that incident. That was pretty much the time when I started having panic attacks so bad that I fainted. I did not tell my Mom or Dad. 4 months ago, they found out by themselves when I went down in the kitchen for a midnight study break and lost conscious when i saw the shot of a ghost on TV. A mere horror scene was enough to get me on the cold floor. Then came the diagnosis. I can’t help but feel like if I had different parents, I could have been mentally healthy, and I hate myself for thinking this way. They emotionally tire me. I wish I could fix me up. I wish I could make myself worthy of them.