Mean Girls Part Two

The Heather Show was running pretty well. I had learned how to act at home, at school, for friends, for 'friends', and for boyfriends. It was all going so smoothly. I was always being invited places. My phone would always be ringing. I was, almost, proud of what I had built. Almost.
My sixteenth summer I had to get a job. When I first started there I did not want to have to pretend to be a mean girl there too. I just wanted to make some money so I could go out with all my wonderful and horrible friends. I felt like I was back in fifth grade. When I was not being flat-out ignored I was being picked on. I did not wear make-up or do anything cute with my hair or uniform. I was at work. What did I care? It was fast food, not the fucking prom. After three months of being tortured, I decided that I would be plastic there too. I found the Queen Bee and her drones and started my show. Finding the weak links and picking them apart for the pleasure of others. I was praised.
I started to become tired. There was a point in my life when I was working almost thirty-five hours a week, a member of the debate team, an avid reader/writer, girlfriend to boys, dirty laundry gather, in two A.P classes, and trying to cover up my filth from my mother. I started to do speed. I had to stay awake. There was not enough hours in the day. Let alone the fact that my manager "saw something in me" and was overworking me at work. All I did was work for other people. I barely had time to read or write at that point in my life. (The only two things I loved to do for myself.)
Everything started getting worse when I dropped out of school, moved in with my boyfriend and started working almost sixty hours a week. I had one day off a week, and worked very long shifts. It was hard to keep the mean girls happy. I was trying to make a living so me and my boyfriend could have a decent life, and I was trying to backstab and manipulate whenever I got a free second at work. Soon enough, I was so angry about my life that I was not pretending anymore. I really did hate the 'friends' I pretended to be friends with because of how easy it was to use them. I started to really hate the mean girls for having even more than me. I hated them for being so evil and not having to try. I hated them for not having to work so hard to make a living. I hated my boss for wanting me to work so hard and never thanking me for anything. I hated my boyfriend for not trying to fix any of this mess, and I hated myself for doing all of this.
Now I was talking trash about everyone. I was an unstoppable bitch. I was always yelling and screaming and breaking something. I hated my life and wanted everyone to feel the hatred I was feeling.
Strange thing is, I was never plastic with my boyfriend. I was myself 100% of the time. I could do or say no wrong around him. My obsessions did not bother him. My infatuation with Justin Timberlake did not bother him. Everything about me was okay, was good, he loved.
He helped me change. After my accident, I asked Jon what the last seven months pertained. He said I stopped pretending to be someone I was not. I said, "People finally accept me?!" He said, "No, you really became an evil bitch." It hurt but I found out that it really was the truth. My goal was to change that.
The ironic part is though now one of my closest friends was one of the people I talked the most about. She accepted my apology and it felt so great to get it all off of my chest. I am done being a mean girl. I didn't get hit by a bus. I didn't have to be a part of some Math Club, or anything from the movie. Instead, I am a victim of a minor concussion and have some memory loss and realized that I was a shitty person and I did not ever want to feel that low ever again.
Now I am me. I am Heather. I still have many layers to me, but they are layers that are real. I am happy now. The happiest I have been in a long time.