Dear Lauren,

You know what's ironic? Me thinking the other day that I was doing great for not having a mental breakdown for more than a month. Then today slammed into me like a truck.

I didn't even get honorable mentions on the writing competition my teacher wanted me to enter because she thought I had a good chance of doing good. I guess she was wrong about me. My writing is horrible. I can't seem to do anything right. I'm failing English. I can't find a single source for the essay I'm writing that doesn't require permission from the author to use. My topic isn't philosophical enough. According to one of my friends, her entire class laughed when they saw that my backup topic was if aliens were real. Why can't I be good at something, anything?

In orchestra, I'm all out of tune and rushing. In science I don't understand some of the questions being asked. In Spanish, I can't understand anything. In social studies, I pretend I know everything when I don't understand half the things they're asking. In algebra, I can't answer the questions fast or correctly enough. In dnd, I can't understand anything we're doing or anything anyone is saying, so they just exclude me. In news crew, they don't even know my name.

In theatre, I thought we had already decided we were going to do the song I suggested, but apparently they changed their minds and now we're doing one of the hardest songs that needs a big stage when we barely have a fourth of the classroom. I'm just mad I planned a good chunk of the choreography last night before they decided I Won't Grow Up is too childish of a song (After all, they're about to go into eighth grade. How could they be so immature? Of course, they deny also ever acting like the children they are every day.), too repetitive because part of it is call and response, and unrealistic. "Children can't not grow up." It's not about children never aging in the context we were going to use it in. It's about children not wanting to grow up. Anyways, everyone went with One Jump Ahead because they "liked the tune."

I shouldn't be surprised. No one ever listens to me. For instance, today I volunteered to help with filming the book fair ad. I'm a big book worm, so it would've been weird if I didn't. Well, I show up to help and guess what? They're already working on it and aren't letting anyone else even know what they plan for the video. You want to know the greeting I got after clearing my throat very loudly? "Heyyyyyy... Rose?"

They don't even remember my name. So, of course, the school's biggest bookworm, notorious with every teacher or student I've ever talked to for carrying around books everywhere, the number one person you expect to be front and center when advertising books, is in the background looking at them only because the people filming were too lazy to kick people out of the section they were recording in.

It hurts. It really hurts. The one thing people know and remember about me is the thing where I'm not allowed to help with. I shouldn't be upset, but after all the things that happened today, it's too much.

At dnd, after ignoring my existence for the one millionth time, some people notice I look depressed. Honestly, I'm shocked how they can notice that, but they can't see me stabbing the back of my hand over and over again in the same place with a sharp die I borrowed from someone. I can't tell whether I'm happy or not it didn't bleed.