Get Ready…Get Set…Don’t Go

Time is not stopping. My fingers get cold when I am alone, my body starts to sink in and my face starts to turn blue. I feel like I am dead but I am not dead. I’m just dead to the feeling of finally rising. I don’t want to rise just yet, I still want to be young and explore like I am in elementary school. Everything seemed easier in elementary school, although I was bullied but I pulled through. Life is slowly hitting me and I am not ready. Friends have shown their true colors: I let go of toxic friends even though it took a lot from to leave. I’m not the person to just leave because I want to, it’s because enough is enough and I just can’t deal with it any more. On the other hand, letting go of friendships is something new to me because I keep in things that I refuse to say since I am too kind to say something about it. So, I let them go because they are doing harm by holding me back. 

I am learning to stand up for myself since I can’t react to what goes on. I choke on my own words, I react differently than I should and it just never comes out of my mouth. I have a habit of letting people walk over, my feelings since I am an easy target to pin on. People react on me because I let them and that’s an issue for me because I will always think about what I supposedly did wrong but, I do admit to my mistakes and that makes me human. Sometimes, I admit to things that I think I am doing wrong in the moment, but further on I didn’t do anything wrong and that is what kills me most, pleasing other people and feeling sorry for them when I shouldn’t. I will step up to fears and own up to them. I will step up to people and stand up for myself. It is another set on life that I am not ready to let go. I am this person since I was born. I have had a few people in my face and all I could do is say sorry and cry because I get so mad that nothing comes out and I just say sorry to fill in. In that moment, my anxiety rises and I can’t feel myself anymore. I go numb, I turn blue. My fingers get cold, my body sinks in and I turn blue. 

Blue is my favorite color, but not in this situation. People make blue as sadness and not joyful but I find blue an exciting color. Another color I really love is magenta. It’s new but it signifies that their is another color that combines with blue in my eyes. Magenta is just that swirl in between the blue, like me. I look like a broken girl with a smile since you’ll rarely find me sad because I don’t let anyone ruin my day. If a person does, then it has to be really serious. I am blue on the outside, but once you get to know me, I am bundle of everything. Once I meet someone knew, I treat them like I’ve known them my whole life. I take the person in and go from there. I just hope they don’t turn to a person I never knew before because I hate seeing two colors. I am nineteen and I have to let go. I don’t want to let go of my past because it defines me. It’s what created me in the first place. What I can tell you for sure, I have been changing in the last few months. I am beating my insecurities and standing up little by little. I have faced obstacles that I didn’t think there were obstacles where strangers make you feel small and just overide you, even when you do your very best.

I will tell you an incident that happened a few weeks ago in a story with different names that I witnessed:

Amanda was rushing home from school because she got a call from the Animal Humane Services saying “if you don’t get here by 5 o’clock, I will send your dog to the shelter.” She was doing her best to get her boyfriend’s dog back because he means so much to him and the boyfriend was away. His mother called Amanda for help and she helped because her mother in law was working and couldn’t leave. So, Amanda decided to help. She helped and tried to make time. The lady kept insisting for Amanda to come but she was in school and couldn’t leave. Amanda bought a dog tag because the lady (we’ll call her the rescuer) the rescuer kept wanting pictures. The dog has run away once and the collar was off because he doesn’t like it while taking showers. So, Amanda’s phone died and continued to call on her best friend’s phone and from her laptop. After her classes ended, they both headed back and there was traffic. A truck was smashed into half and it was just insane. Amanda tried to rush but her best friend calmed her down. With both phones dead, they went to Amanda’s mom’s job and looked for someone who has a cell. She called the Petsmart Banfield Hospital to say she was coming late for the dog’s rabies vaccination.  She was looking for her mom and she was nowhere to be seen. She then dropped her best friend off and headed to the rescuer’s house. When she got there, she had a mean face on and smelled like cigarettes. Walked into the house and she went cold. She went numb and cold. The rescuer immediately started to tell her why she didn’t keep her word, why she didn’t follow the contract they signed and why he didn’t have a collar. She explained but nothing made sense to her. The rescuer then started to pick on her lateness and how she couldn’t come earlier but she explained why she couldn’t and said that traffic happens unexpectedly and she tried to take the fastest route. The rescuer didn’t buy it and then raised her voice. Amanda grew up where people rarely raise their voice and she would automatically feel really low when someone does. She intends to cry because yelling or the raise of someone’s tone gets her emotions scattered. The rescuer started to pick on what she says, when she says she couldn’t come because she has school. The rescuer immediately made her feel low and talked about how when she was a student, she had both lives and worked while being a student. She continued to call herself an immigrant. She then called Amanda an immigrant but she wasn’t an immigrant. She is born in the United States and her parents are immigrants but not her. She turned herself down and cried. She felt like her skin tone was jeopardized here and picked on. The rescuer started to put faults in being an immigrant and how she should stand aside from immigrants, to not prove stereotype and to be a better model for the immigrants, not be them. She had so many things to say but couldn’t, because she was numb to her toes. She wished she could speak up but the rescuer already she was going to send him to the shelter, so there was nothing else to say. She felt low and couldn’t get back up. She cried so much when she left because she let it happen again. She wished to stand up for herself and she started to question what was wrong with her.

 In reality, nothing was wrong with her and she shouldn’t have picked on herself. That’s what it feels like to feel really low from a stranger and a colored background. People continue to manipulate and pick on your weakness because it’s an easy target. I just don’t want people to walk over me anymore, I refuse to feel low and I am happy to say enough is enough. It’s just really scary to let go and start fresh. When I want to start fresh, I want to delete everything and start fresh. When I do, it will be the best day of my life. It’s just really scary I repeat, really scary to let go and start new. I am nineteen and I have to start new. People will be left in the past and I will start new. I need to change and see myself grow. 

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