(random picture I took in Wexford,
click for better quality viewing)
Shedding tears for basically the whole day. I don't even know why. Okay, I'm overly sensitive... I established that years ago. I got dumped this morning. It's so odd... the people I like the most never give me much of a chance, do they? I mean... 9 days. I suppose at least she gave me a week. 2009: Year of Lucy's destroyed confidence. I never had much self esteem. Okay, like 5 years ago I did. Then there was the bullying and slagging and glasses and mistakes. Secondary school wasn't much better; I just got put down more. Reduced to a mound on a chair, to put it simply. And then the scoliosis check. You know when you dismiss things in your mind, like tests or anything really? That's how I entered that hall. I was so confident it was a waste of time, and that all our spinal cords were perfect. But no. Me, the misfit, the reject, the person at the side of the social cliques had to have bloody curvature. Didn't help that I was terrified of hospitals... with that familiar sickening smell of formaldehyde and stomach acid. I remember the first day I entered Crumlin hospital for Scoliosis. Trembling, in tears, being yelled at by my mam for crying. I was terrified. The google information told me that I was dying slowly, something that the doctor denied. And there was all the period talking too, which made it worse, since everyone could hear, and I could feel the salt-water tears drying quickly and my cheeks burning in utter humiliation. The talk of back braces was worse, I mean, I was an outcast as it was. I didn't need a brace. I was even shallower back then than I am now. How was I supposed to spend 8 years of my life in a back brace, whilst being normal? Teenagers are cannibals, viciously ripping the people they consider their 'best mates forever' to pieces. I remember on the way home, the starched silence, bitter like blood, ignoring the cigarette smoke and the wind whipping my hair back. That was the start of deterioration. From that point, I shriveled and hid. I had four friends... I didn't even tell them for ages. And then their was that P.E confrontation when that bitch of a hockey coach took me aside in front of everyone and started bringing the situation up. The over-sensitivity meant I started roaring crying then and there, in front of 30 whorish, spiteful young girls. Scoliosis really just wrecked me. I had around 4 friends... none of which ever stood up for me. I just got verbally attacked repeatedly, trying to resist the urge to cry. That Summer, though, that was nice. I got my hair cut, and I got contact lenses... and it was all spectacular. That June I had another hospital appointment, and by then, I considered it procedure. Both parents were there, I felt so uncomfortable. Another x-ray. Some feeling around on my back. Then he asked me to leave and talked to one of those lovely, pretty nurses that reassured me that I'd probably just have occasional posture lessons or exercises. My parents emerged from that room all silent and secretive. I should have guessed something was going on. But I didn't... damn naivety. I went on holidays then, had a lovely time. Then a month later, they told me I had to have scoliosis correction surgery, which is a big surgery. I knew from google that only bad scoliosis cases needed the op. I lost like 50% of my trust towards my parents then. It wasn't them getting the surgery, was it? They had no right to keep it from me even if they were just trying to protect me. Then I was really upset... They tried to fix things by giving me this laptop. I mean, they always do that. To fix errors, they flood me with material items that I really don't need. Consolation prizes, I guess. Christmas in hospital. More friends by then, the alternative ones, who listened to whiney emo bands, the ones I still like. And then the scar. That brutal scar. I watched scrubs on my stomach for 2 months because I couldn't walk or do anything properly. I didn't feel like eating. I didn't feel like seeing people. I was in unbearable pain for at least 12 hours a day. I could hardly sleep. And then I had to go to school, for mostly half days, and I was with my friends and grrr. Then they ditched me once, took me back, and then did it again. That whole scenario was threaded with venomous msn conversations about how much make up I wore and how much of a bitch I was and how I was Hitler re-incarnate. It was terrible, I was so alone. I sat with the smart kids at lunch, and then in Summer, they took me back. I adore them now. I really don't know why. Bar Ashling and Jemma. They were there through everything. 6 Summer Relationships..... the 3 that were vaguely beautiful, mysterious and interesting gave me less than two weeks. I still feel like total shit. I'm such a horrible person, aren't I? A blatant, horrid bitch. Whore. Slut. Fuck it. I hate myself. I wish I could just skip past all of this shit. Phone rang. I randomly started shouting 'Fuck off, fuck off, FUCK OFF!!'
Well. Off I go into le rack of love.
I leave you with a pretty little Disney AMV for the song I've been drowning myself in all day, Naive by The Kooks. Enjoy.
LUCY XOXO
(Ps. Sorry for the hideous venting. Pps. I know.... TLNR. But still. )
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