Yes, I made a reference to Numb by Linkin Park in the title because it's true. Read "My Photographic Memory" if you haven't already because Vendetta is a friend of mine.

     So yes, I do have a photographic memory, woo hoo. But why the title? Why the reference to Numb? Well, because it tells you all you need to know right now, especially about my intelligence: I'm tired of being called smart. It's the only thing I've ever been known as and it kills me inside when someone either calls me that or says it to my face. Of course, I never show it, but it's become a demon that haunts me every minute of every day. Earlier, I was told to come through on a MCQ practice for AP Human Geography, and before I even wrote this, I checked my grades and someone in my class looked and said they were jealous of my grades. Why must I carry this burden of stress with me? WHY DOES YE SAY, "THOU SHALT SUFFER"?!

      I guess it all started in my elementary years. I was something of a nerd, and I still am. I moved a grade up because I already knew everything in the TK lesson plans that required me to spend another year. By 2nd grade, I was already reading more advanced books for my age and knew every state and capital of the U.S. by heart. During 3rd-5th grade, I was still a bookworm but tried doing things kids my age normally do, which is cause chaos. I remember I did something with my friends that ended up getting us in trouble. We ran before the teacher caught us, but I felt so much guilt and confessed when we were in line to go back into class after lunch. My moral compass was too accurate and it led me to only sitting on the bench for lunch instead of playing, which was a weak punishment since I do that already. When COVID came, I did well, but my mental state was becoming twisted and demons of the past crept in. They took over in 7th and 8th grade, but they let me see the true colors of everyone. Lemme tell you, the kids weren't alright. I saw the good and bad of everyone, even my friends. It led to me and my friends who attend my high school breaking up at the start of the year. 8th grade year was the year I graduated and I strived to do my best, but it ended up in me being known as a teacher's pet and a try-hard for attention. I cried every night thinking that me being me was bad and that I had to conform to their standards. But the demon I call Sebya whispered they weren't worthy of my effort and if they can't accept me with my flaws, they don't deserve anything I'll do. Since I consider Sebya my good right-hand ma- I mean demon, I let the thought consume me and opened my eyes to the realization she was right. I only did the extra work for myself, even if it did benefit the class. I didn't need the compliments despite getting them constantly because I found them useless. They could only vie for the intelligence, not the hard work I had to do to get here. The only compliments I accepted were from my friends or teachers, which I continue to this day. I've done more work to show the other things I'm capable of, but everyone points back to my grades and knowledge. It irritates me and I lose my mind silently over it. 

    One thing I do get credited for but is getting a little irritating is the fact I know how to read sheet music. I've been playing flute since 4th grade and was challenged by my choir director to learn songs for Mass. I enjoyed the challenge and ever since listening to songs with an orchestra at the center, I've gained an appreciation for the hard work musicians do to make these songs. It's when people say things like "I could never do that" or "You're really smart if you can read that" to my face that makes me a little irritated. They can! They just don't want to put in the effort to do so. It's that fact that makes me die inside when people praise my intelligence or think it came naturally.

    So what CAN you say that won't kill me inside? If you need to say something, say something like "I'd love to learn how to do that" or "Tell me how you did that". I'd be delighted to teach someone a skill or lesson, but no one dares to ask for their benefit. I can't be one thing when I'm many, and I'm tired of being what you want me to be: the smart girl who knows all. I've truly become so numb to all this, and friendly fire has killed so many of the relationships I've had. Think before you speak, people. You don't know what others are going through and how they'll take the things you say. Don't play the victim if ya didn't.