I’m the terrified freshman girl in a dreamlike state

At the big bad new school

Who sat in the dark with the Moon

And cried because she missed her

Friends and home and everything

(“Try to make new friends”

Because you’re crippling anxiety won’t get in the way)

I’m the depressed sophomore

Sitting slouched in Geometry

Who notices a quickening pulse and a prickling at the back of her neck

Who has a panic attack for absolutely no reason and has to leave

And has another one the next day for absolutely no reason and has to leave

Who is prescribed Xanax but refuses to take it because she can deal with it

And she does.

I’m the “happy” junior

Who laughs with her new friends in the new halls and at lunch and in class

Who doesn’t have panic attacks, but

Who lies right to her own face and buries everything in secrets

And the cloudy numbness and the silence and the sadness

Who really thought she was happy

But she wouldn’t do that if she was actually happy

(“You can change how you think”

It’s not that easy)

I’m the senior

Who feels like she’s grown up all at once

But she doesn’t care because she’s so excited

For the opportunities and new friends and being herself

She is ready to be positive and grow and learn

But this place is toxic and stifling

(“You can change how you think”)

She has too many awful memories from her room and the school

But at least she knows who she is –

The reader, the artist, the wanna-be-writer

The girl who plays music in her head during tests because they’re too boring

She is her friends and the cities and her opinions and interests

And anything except what people tell her to be