Re-introducing me

I had plastic surgery when I was 6
Because my ears used to flop like a Cocker Spaniel's.
But I rarely wear any makeup.
I get a little more deaf every day
But I am a very good listener if you give me the chance to be.

I care deeply. Too deeply.
And that's only a bad thing every once in a while.
I used to be stronger than all the boys in my class- I was the champion at arm wrestling.
My arms aren't very strong anymore, and I don't have a six pack of abs.
But I'm still very strong inside. I don't always see it but I am. I know that now.

I don't swear or rebel or complain about my parents
But believe me, I know what the 'real world' is like
And I  honestly don't care if you do those things, I'll love you anyways- if only from a distance.

I liked the Hope Assembly- except for the fact that we keep trying to take mental illness out of suicide in an effort to feel like we have some control over it. Suicide is a horrible thing, and it happens way too often. But depression isn't something that can be fixed by talking to popular kids in the halls. Our school isn't only unified or successful if we don't lose anyone to this horrible illness. Often the people who seem the happiest are the ones struggling the most. I should know.

I wish I could go on more dates,
And I wish I didn't have to be the one to ask people on dates,
And I hate that people seem to think dates always have to cost money,
And let's be honest, I think way too much about dating in general.
But hey, college is coming up
And who knows what will happen.
Real talk, I'm terrified of RM's.
But I can tell my future will be a good one. Gotta keep up the hope.

But there you go.
Introduction number two.
Welcome, new students, new readers, old readers. All.
Welcome to Paris.
I'm Korra.
And I'm also Tiffany.
Truly a pleasure.

Good morning!

And if I don't see you... good afternoon, good evening, and goodnight.

It's that kind of day...

There are days when I'm normal. Happy, even. I have such a blessed life and person after person says hello in the hall. I feel pretty. I feel successful. I feel content.
And then.
And then I have days like today.
Outwardly, it's just like any other day.
I go to school, I finish my homework, I walk home. I come back for rehearsal. People say hello...
Maybe a little less than usual.
A silly jab makes my heart ache, even when the same thing didn't yesterday.
I see couple after couple in the halls, holding hands in the hall.... And instead of giggling at them, I find myself jealous. Jealous of the fact they have someone to talk to. Someone who will reassure them of their worth.
I can't concentrate on my homework, I waste time trying to get my mind off things.... but I don't even know what I'm trying to get my mind off of.
I feel ugly and worthless, often on days I should feel most beautiful.
I give up trying to weakly smile. I give up trying to act like everything is okay.
I walk home, stomach sinking to the ground, tears filling my eyes. I call every number on my contact list- everyone is busy and can't come over or too busy to even answer the phone. I sit alone on my bed. I don't even know what to do. My eyes find my dad's bag of  Brazil nuts, and imagine my throat swelling and breathing slowing as I ' forget' where I put my Epi Pen. I imagine the screams and tears and letters and announcements the next morning. And immediately try to push away all of those thoughts. I could never. I would never.
The thoughts turn to numbness, which is infinitely worse.
I escape my room and take the medication that's supposed to stop this from happening. I slowly return to my room.
I find a text on my phone. Em Pew is coming over. She comes through the door and hugs me without a word. She comforts me when I am at my lowest point.
When my shaking has ceased and my smile is no longer forced, we sing karaoke at the top of our lungs  until the world ends- and let me be the first to say we sound SO GOOD. When she leaves, I have all but forgotten the numbness, the pain, the hopelessness, the fear.
It's been a pretty normal day, after all.
Thank you, Em. For everything. You truly have changed me for good.

Cents

How does it make sense
That it takes me five minutes to get ready in the morning
But it takes an hour to get ready for bed at night

How does it make sense
That as we get older and our minds and lives slow down
That time continues to speed up

How does it make sense
That I can know so completely how much you don't feel for me
And yet
I can't seem to suppress the feelings I have for you?

The world doesn't make sense, I guess. Maybe  if I figure it out, I can make sense of how I feel about you. Maybe if I figure it out, you will too.

I don't know if that would be a good thing.

Real talk from the Paris support group

Hi, my name is Tiffany
You can call me Korra
and I've had this addiction now for my whole life.
It started with the small stuff, you know... gateway arts
like listening to music, coloring books
but then it got worse...
I started writing short stories and poetry, dancing
It became a regular thing to turn to
to take the edge off things, to make life easier
I didn't start the hard stuff until about a year ago
I... I started a blog.
This addiction has gotten to the point that
I don't even know how to function without it.
It is my life now.
And being expected to just go cold turkey after Monday-
when you go to Paris, you won't want to leave
And I'm going to linger a little longer.

Because Paris has taught me that I'm more than just Korra.
I'm Korra. I'm freaking Korra.
Korra, who eats ice cream while watching Biggest Loser.
Korra, whose dad is a bishop who rides a huge motorcycle to work every day
Korra, whose dream is to be kissed in the rain
because of the feel of the rain, the smell of the rain, the sound of the rain, the magic of the rain
Korra, who runs up the stairs, heart racing, to beat the dark to the top
Korra, who's the English Sterling Scholar, and has no idea how the heck that happened
Korra, whose anxiety can sometimes be overwhelming
but
Korra, whose anxiety can often be remedied by a long hug

Korra, who recently went on a date with a football player (woot! Sheep no more!)
Korra, who will miss Cassius Clay, Katchican, Mountain Nomad, Tosh, Peepleizdum, Last of the Mohicans, Steven O Jordan, and James Nemo
and Korra who wouldn't mind going on a date with any or all of them

and Korra, freaking Korra, who doesn't care if she's addicted to art
because she's not leaving Paris
anytime soon.

Neither am I.

when you're underwater, you shouldn't breathe.

Do you ever forget to breathe?
I do.
I forgot to breathe when you looked at me.
I forgot to breathe on that last pushup before the date.
I forgot to breathe when I took that test
I forgot to breathe before singing that high note
I forgot to breathe when he leaned closer
I forgot to breathe before looking in the mirror
I forgot to breathe as I jumped into the water
I forgot to breathe when you told me your secret
I forgot to breathe when I choked on my tears
I forgot to breathe when I read that text in the middle of the night
And I couldn't figure out how to breathe again for a long time.
I forgot to breathe at school the day after.
I forgot to breathe when they read the letter.
I forgot to breathe when they talked about how something had to be done
When an illness every bit as real as lung cancer
makes people wish they could forget to breathe
and somehow it's the community's fault...
I forget to breathe every time I see my phone light up my dark bedroom
I forget to breathe when I hear others tell me secrets
just like yours
I forget to breathe when I think about you.
And I wish...
I wish you were still breathing.