This is just a way for me to vent and spend my time differently, it's not meant to be a perfect story. I have not finished it yet. So enjoy, if you want to read it.
I walked up the stairs of our new house with a box in hand. I placed the box onto the floor. It was the last box. I looked around my room, wondering where I should put some of my things. I opened my boxes and started taking things out and setting them up.
After an hour, my things had officially been moved around. The room was a lot more spacious than the one in my old place, so the room had much more space to put posters and things. But I never got any. I was never really interested in bands, musicians, or anything poster-related. I just played Roblox all day, as the 11-year old child I was. My parents told me to delete Roblox, but I never did. I knew better than to give personal information, or trust the wrong people. I personally didn't like people who swore or threw insults, I felt uncomfortable when that happened. I just wondered why people even do that.
After a year of living in that place, I had started exploring more on my phone, searching things up and watching YouTube shorts. Some YouTube shorts had mental health related topics, and in one particular one, I saw the symptoms of social anxiety and depression. I looked around my room, seeing the garbage around. I looked down at my hair, seeing it greasy. I looked at my teeth in a mirror, seeing them yellow, and even having a cavity on one. While I was looking in the mirror, my eyes traveled down to my stomach. Is that how fat I was?.. I started to get sadder. I never talked to my parents and I didn't have friends at school. I was in fifth grade now, around 10-11 years old. I didn't have any friends in fifth grade, or not that I can remember at least. But then, when I thought nothing could get any worse, Covid had hit. I took online classes in 6th grade until I was 12.
Then, we moved again..
