time

by Mikayla C., 17

I wish my brain would wake up and start doing the things it’s supposed to. It’s like my head is filled with icy slush and my brain is stuck up there, alive, but just barely. Like for example, today I told the advisor of my TSA–that’s Technology Student Association, by the way–I told them I could probably get a ride to the next competition, when in all reality I wasn’t going to ask my parents at all. See, here arises my dilemma: I love TSA, because I can actually debate political matters even though the club is rooted in technology-related areas. And competitions are absolutely exhilarating; of the few things that make me feel energized, TSA competitions are the most effective. But the truth is I don’t want to go to the competition this weekend. I want to stay in bed until 11 and go to the mall with my friend to waste my money on things I most definitely don’t need (another result of my slushed-up brain). I want to go over my other friend’s house and binge-watch Netflix because that’s all I have the energy for these days. As the president of TSA, I have a responsibility to attend this competition. But truthfully? My slushed-up brain refuses to allow me to do so. Instead I’m going to make up some elaborate lie to get out of going, and then I’ll have a panic attack because I’ll fear karma is coming to get me, overanalyzing every little thing that happens to me over the weekend. And I’ll feel bad for lying, too, because I don’t normally lie, and I don’t want to lie. I just don’t have the energy for big events like this anymore, you know? I’m hoping one day my brain will defrost and start working like it should, like it used to. But until then, all I can do is sit here and contemplate. Maybe I’ll overthink so much that my brain will start frying, and it’ll defrost itself that way. Maybe all I need is time.
Yeah, maybe time is all I need.
Maybe.