When I was a kid, I was extremely susceptible to movies.
I’d watch The Devil Wears Prada and feel classy and fashionable for a day or two, and I’d order my mom around and roll my eyes and go “ugh” at everyone I talked to. I’d watch a western and then go outside and refuse to come in, all the while demanding that a fire pit be made in the backyard so I could boil rabbits to feed myself in the open range. I’d watch a medical drama, let’s say House, and ask for one half of my playroom to be converted into a tiny-person doctor’s office so that I could treat patients more effectively.
Once, when I could have been 8-9, I watched a movie, (I can’t remember what movie) where I distinctly remember the blonde, teenager character having an atrocious mental breakdown. So I decided that my life was equally as bad as this blonde’s (It wasn’t), so I deserved a breakdown, too. My plan went as follows.
Step 1: Acted over-normal all day long. Almost sickeningly sweet. I didn’t want to alarm my mother or foreshadow any of my struggle-driven act. I picked up my toys, clothes, and ate all of my dinner. Everything was completely normal…or so they thought.
Step 2: Shouted “I’m going to go take a bath now!” dramatically before I headed into the bathroom down the hall from the living room. I wanted them to know exactly what I was supposed to be doing so what I’d actually do would be very different. I was a brilliant child.
Step 3: I shut the door ever so carefully, and, instead of starting the shower, I turned on the sink. I let the water fill the sink and then slowly but surely began to wash my arms and legs in this little-sink-bath of water I’d created. I put too much shampoo in my hair and then dunked my head in this little pool of water. This took about 4 minutes to execute, and then I put on my fluffy pink robe and exited the bathroom with a flourish.
Step 4: I went into the living room and proclaimed, with a sweeping gesture, “I’m DONE WITH MY BATH!”. I stood there smiling as my mom said, completely un-alarmed “That fast? Did you really take a bath?”. “I bathed, in the sink!” “…Why?” See, this was the climax of my plan: my beaming smile shifted into a drastic frown. Tears welled up in my eyes as I shouted “NOBODY UNDERSTANDS ME!” and collapsed to the floor just as I’d seen the blonde girl do in the movie. My mom ran to my side, picked me up (I’m still bawling, by the way), and took me into the shower, where she gave me a proper cleaning. She put me into bed, kissed me, and said “It’ll all be better tomorrow.”
She walked out of the room and turned off the light.
Mission accomplished, I thought.
(Source: thanksbees)
(Source: halfaspretty, via cas-i-said-legs)