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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2096368
Rated: 13+ · Monologue · Arts · #2096368
This is my story and how it's very hard for me to come out of my shell!
Alone and Scared

Outcast, hermit, freak! Alone these are the words that run laps in my head. These four small words feel giant to me and make me feel like I'm nothing. How could I be like this? Coming from a mother who's a social butterfly, and with one flutter of her wings can fly from one group to another. Each beating of her wings can make them laugh at her jokes, smile, drink, and talk with out word vomiting. While I can't talk to one person without thinking I'm awkward or shuddering as I speak. Was I born this way, or could I be adopted? Were the years of being awkward making me crawl back into my shell and get anxiety? I know I'm not adopted but I may not have the social skills like my mother, but we do share similar looks.. So how did I end up being so alone? Well to help me understand this better I've talked to relatives about it, in which they said I was a little shy, but never really awkward. Well now that's good to know that I wasn't antisocial. I just wish I could go back to that and keep it that way. Although I can carry on a conversation without my anxiety being perched on my shoulder and telling me I'll blow it. I'll wait for it to get heavier and heavier on my shoulder until it clings to me like a baby kola on my back. I believe it started when my mother started to get in more serious relationships. I was happy when she was happy since she had found someone again but not everyone is who they say they are. Now the relationship got so serious that we all moved into His house. Goodbye apartment and hello hell! They dated for what felt like eternity but was actually three years. In those horrible years, yelling, screaming, abuse, fights, and tears, are much to handle. The two would always fight, which ended up turning into screaming matches and then someone getting hurt and my mother crying. She was always trying to make him a better man but never getting anywhere. I hated hearing my mother cry I wanted to help but what could I do? all I could do is just tell my brothers "it's going to be alright" and Moms' boyfriend usually getting mad at us. Then yelling at me because I was the oldest . I couldn't bring myself to tell my friends, I was too scared about what would happen if he found out I told them. Although one day though my mom got the courage and finally left him! I was so happy, maybe now I could get myself back to 100% and become more social. Sadly the first day at my new school I just sat in the guidance office until the bell rang so I could go to class without confrontation. I did this everyday for the last two weeks of school since I had started late. One day the the next year someone approached me and had invited me to their table. I was so happy but so scared. all kind of thoughts ran through my head; What if I was too quite? Talked to much? Yet once I got there, everyone was sweet and they talked to me, yet didn't mind I had a hard time looking them in the eye. I could look at my milk talk look up and they would be laughing with me! Which felt just so inviting. Each day seemed to have gotten better and brighter, but the sun has to set some time. Soon some of my new friends went off and graduated. Sadly I moved again this time into the lower suburbs. I made new friends but there was no one like him, they guy I liked had brought out the best in me. Amazingly he had anxiety like me but he could work with it since he forced himself to be more extroverted. No matter what happend he made me smile and laugh and soon... he was mine. He was a very long distance away, but he was mine. Talking to him was like getting a fresh piece of pie after it's just been baked. I could hold on to him when I needed, especially when my mom had found her "new project". This one mostly drank and had a bad attitude but on some occasions would leave in the middle of night. Leaving me to comfort my mother not knowing what to do. I just kept to myself about what happend the night before. The only people I had were a small handful of friends and my close friend from far away. Soon my mom had gotten the courage she had used once before, years ago to kick him out. Later that year I graduated and got to move in with the love of my life and everyday he helps me take baby steps outside of my shell, also becoming comfortable with how I am. I might not be able to fully get out of it but each day, I get a little bit better thanks to him. It's okay to be social one day and then the next day to stay in and read, because I've known I have a shoulder to lean on when I need it no matter what. Outcast,hermit, freak! But not alone, not anymore.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2096368