Feelings are our weakness

It's strange how life can get so fucked up. You can have it all, everything you hoped life would be like as a teenager. But, then you start feeling things you never thought you would, doing things you know you shouldn't to reach your high expectations of high school life. You go crazy, out of control because the pressure just got too much to handle. You think you're a grown up, know everything once you hit your teens, but you soon come crashing back down to earth with destructive consequences. Everything around you starts to feel like it's crumbling apart. That everything you touch turns to shit. So you do some fucked up things because you know you were the one who made yourself lose that bit of control, and not from the fate of others. Losing control and not thinking at that moment can feel like an escape, can feel powerful, but eventually you come back to realization and feel worse than you did in the first place, you feel weak. You keep everything locked away in your head, getting worse and worse, because you don't really have anyone to go to, who'll understand fully. Feeling like everyone you thought you could go to are slowly disappearing, and pushing everyone else away. And you realize how good and stable you could be, with a place to sleep, food, family, friends, health, and feel selfish for feeling like this in the first place when others have such little. Still you can't get that feeling of failure, worthlessness of being unstable to fuck off out of your head; it's like an irritating itch you can't seem to get rid of. But you have to try and dwell on the positives, keep on living, you're always going to have those moments when you can't keep in control, but you have to charge on. It's how we grow and expand as humans.

I'm Zara, blonde, brown eyes, five foot three, average sixteen year old girl, on the outside. I live in North Wales; it's a bit of a shit hole, full of chavs, skaters and pensioners. I've lived here for all of my life, same scenery, same people, same ball shit. I've honestly had the best upbringing, I can't complain too much, friends, family, education, and health everything seemed easy. My parents have always supported me, gave me everything they could. My mum, Jill, works as a manager in a nursery. I'd always been really close to her as a child, I'd tell her everything, we'd go for days out, just the two of us often, and we had a strong mother daughter bond. She'd tuck me in at night and read me stories, opening my imagination to see how amazing life can be. She'd let me climb in bed next to her if I'd woken up in the middle of the night from a nightmare, kicking my Dad out to sleep in the spare room. I'd curl up next to her, and she'd wrap her arms tightly around me, stroking my hair soothingly, I'd soon relax my shaking body listening to the sound of her steady breathing which became a lullaby to my ears and find myself drifting into a content sleep almost instantly. My Dad is known around town for being a nice guy, always happy to help others. He's a sound enjineer, but his real passion is music, he plays in a few bands and inherited the name Danny banjo. Dad inspires me a lot in life, although I'll never admit that to him, you can see it in his crystal blue eyes, full of soul how much he appreciates life and loves what he does. We used to spend a lot of weekends going to have a kick about with a ball on the field by our house, or going for a long bike ride in the country, he liked to keep me toned and fit especially if it meant we spent some time together. He's a clever man, he'd make sure we travel a new country every year, and he'd always pointing out things to teach my innocent mind, I'd look up at him intrigued at his every word, but nowadays I'll just role my eyes in irritation. He's now teaching me to play guitar, which is great, and I picked it up really fast, I find music an escape, whether it's in my room or in a party, I let the music overtake my body and drift off into the beat, although me and Dad have different tastes in music, I'm a lot like him in that way. I have an older brother, we hardly ever interact, he stays in his room and I stay in my room. But I honestly love and have so much respect for him. He's an individual, has his own tastes in life and doesn't care if anyone else doesn't like that, he wouldn't change for anyone. He really helped me to be who I am today, seeing him come home from school with a bloody nose after he'd been beat up from some boys saying he's gay or queer, he'd still stay true to himself, and I promised myself from that day onwards, I would do the same.

I guess you're thinking then why the fuck are you complaining, when everything seems easy, almost perfect for you?! Honestly I don't know how things changed, when exactly things got so difficult. I guess it was around my third year in high school. Suddenly the weight of life got heavy on my shoulders, and it was out of my control, pressure from school really got to me, if I got below an A grade, I'd feel like I'd failed when most of my friends were getting Cs. I played hocked four times a week, I'd always been into my sports but I was passionate about this particular sport, I loved the aggression, the power in one hit of the ball and the adrenaline you feel as you hit the ball at the back of the net and the team roar your name in achievement. So if we lost a match, or I let the ball slip past me, I'd get a horrible knot in my stomach and snap at everyone feeling like such a failure, even if it was just a friendly game. I'd always been competitive, especially in life, I had to be the best, I strived off popularity, you could call me a bitch really, but I just had to be at the top or I felt like I was losing a battle. I started closing myself off from my family at some point, if I was in my house I'd go straight to my room, put my headphones in and make myself look busy so I didn't have to talk to anyone else in. At first my parents would look at me with worry in their eyes telling me that they're here to help if I need it, I'd snap back at them saying all I need is for them to get off my back, I'm fine, just busy. Eventually they stopped trying and left me to it, sometimes I'll miss them nagging at me to talk to them, it hurts how they gave up so easy and don't seem to care as much anymore. I suppose it's my own fault, and I'd soon enough end up shouting "Get the fuck out of my face" if they started the whole concerned parents act again.

Difficulty, it's something I face often. For some reason trouble always seems to find me. Just when life seems pretty perfect, it shortly turns into the ground cracking beneath me, putting me off balance, and making me fall flat on my face. I'll act like I don't give a fuck and go a bit crazy, drinking, smoking, and grabbing anyone I can have just to feel like I can fly for a bit. As long as I'm the one damaging myself, I feel a sense of satisfactory and at that moment I really won't give a shit about anyone or anything else. But in reality It's hard, I feel suffocated by life, my ego's battered and I'm losing all respect for myself and as much as a cliché this sounds, I could really do with someone picking me up, holding me tightly, and protecting me right now. But I won't put myself in that situation again, where you feel so dependent on someone, you feel helpless without them. It's scary how life can change so drastically so suddenly, that I'm really trying my hardest to appreciate the good and make it last for as long as possible. Like I said,I don't know when exactly things changed so much for me; all that I know is that it involves one beautiful girl and my own insecurities.