Alien

January 7th, 2063

It’s been twenty years on this planet. I don’t remember much about my past, nor do I know why I got here, but one thing I’m sure is that I am not one of them.

But let’s leave that aside. Today is my birthday, and I want to forget all of my problems. There is no benefit in dwelling on them. I only get more and more depressed when I do so. Maybe my therapist is right: I dwell too much on my issues. It truly would be easier if I just lived my life instead of focused on tiny details. Why am I like this???!! I hate myself!!!

Ugh, what am I talking about? Remember, happy thoughts… breathe! Anyways, my therapist recommended I write on this weird notebook and use it as a “journal” in order to help myself. She says I’m too anxious and that’s why I act weird, but I don’t think that’s totally true. Honestly, the only use I see of this journal is that I can doodle on it, and basically rant about whatever without others criticizing me. Plus, it keeps me sane. This planet is too crazy. Too many rules, too many expectations, and yet no one takes some freaking time to explain them? And they somehow expect me to know shit I’ve never been told about!

I think I deviated enough for today. I guess this is good enough for now.

January 21st, 2063

I was invited over to a “friend’s” house the other day. I swear I tried my best to interact. I swear! Why can’t I just be normal!

It was all going alright, and then my stupid self had to come and mess everything up! Why?! The conversation was normal, and the only task was to keep up with the conversation. The only thing I needed to do to have a normal interaction for once was to make eye contact, say hi, introduce myself, and just maybe even talk about the weather or compliment their outfit.

Not a big deal, right? Wrong! For some reason, my stupid self had to start talking about random facts about some very weird stuff without being asked to do so. Like, it’s not weird for me, but literally everyone else but me think it is. The dead silence that followed it only made me more embarrassed. I told my “friend” I had to leave because I was having a headache and rushed out the door.

I call her “friend” because she ghosted me after that. I no longer have someone to hang out with, but I guess I’ll be alright. I should be fine. After all, I am used to being alone, and I need a lot of alone time after interacting with others. I just need to find a way to fix myself. I hate being a weirdo.

I knew it. Always have. Nobody had to tell me. I was warned, by myself. Stupid f*cker, I warned you, didn't I? Then why is it that you ignored me? Being yourself only ends up in pain... and yet you never listen. Why?!

February 28th, 2063

I wonder if other people also feel lost in this world. Or maybe not lost, but rather that unshakeable feeling that you must not be from here, that you must be an alien (and funnily enough, the government legally considers me an alien, or so says their paperwork of me. They don’t even know my name is Acacia, and that’s a bit depressing. Like, at least get to know the names of your “aliens”!). I think it would be great to know that. It would give me a bit of peace with myself, but everyone around me seems to fit in. I try to fit in, but hiding my differences isn’t easy. I can act normal, but it’s exhausting, and it makes me more depressed.

As I sit under the stars, I wonder if maybe I wasn’t meant to be born here. What if I came from one of those pretty stars, far away from this confusing place? And if I did, what if there are others like me? Are they also weird like me? Maybe they would love to hear me rant about random crazy facts about weird stuff, and they would rant back about some other random fun facts they know about weird stuff. How fun that would be!

You know, I think I will hold on to this thought to make it through life. It gives me a light amidst the storm within me. It may make the world just a bit more bearable.

June 18th, 2063

I was born different, and I don’t mean that figuratively. I was actually born different. The doctors told my parents it was a “deformity.” I don’t think any animal on this planet has these weird-looking antennae sticking out from their heads like I do. I was born a dog and it turns out dogs aren’t supposed to be born that way, nor do tigers, cats, llamas, or basically any other animal (except for insects). I was once given a beanie for my first birthday, and I have worn it ever since. 24/7. There is no way on Earth you will see me without it, not even when I’m home alone.

Stupid younger me thought that way I could be normal and be with the other kids at school, but they noticed. They noticed something that couldn’t be hidden with a simple beanie. Turns out I’m also different when it comes to socializing and being a functional member of society. They noticed my behavior, my way of talking, how I interacted. I tried to be like them, but I simply couldn’t, so I eventually gave up. I became known as the shy, weird loner. The quiet kid. Some even thought I was crazy, and maybe they were right. Maybe I’m crazy. Sane people would be able to be normal… and that makes me feel even crazier. Like I’m a mad animal.

Life is lonely, and painful. Yet it’s somehow beautiful and worth enduring (or so they say). I wish I could find someone out there. Can aliens come abduct me? At least we could try to bond, and who knows? It might just work!

November 15th, 2063

I wish I could know what makes me so different from others. I don’t mean the normal differences between us like when others say “everyone is different.” I actually mean that something inside of me must be broken. I can’t seem to work the same way as others. Holding down a job that is easy for others is just a nightmare for me. I’m a loser at small talk, or eye contact, or even just something as simple as showing affection and expressing emotions. Others say I have a resting b*tch face and that I must smile more. Heck, I’m even failing therapy. Like, who the heck does that? Therapy is meant to help anyone, yet I seem to fail in even the simplest things! Something really must be broken within me, yet I have no idea what it is. Maybe I’m just broken and should accept it. My life is falling apart, my friendships and relationships are breaking, all because I can’t keep my shit together! It’s hopeless. I’m doomed.

February 4th, 2064

I have no energy. Life is harsh. I quit therapy because it did nothing. I failed at it, after all. The only thing I can seem to enjoy right now is fleeing into the woods to sit under the starry night sky in the big clear flower patch. I want someone to reassure me that it’s alright to feel this weird in this world, and that I’m not the only one like this; that there are more of my kind! Maybe someday everything will be alright, and I hope it comes soon… or else, I don’t know how much longer I can hold on.

This bone-deep loneliness and disconnect hurts more than anything I’ve ever experienced.

October 5th, 2064

Star-gazing is just… amazing!!! Others keep telling me that I live too much in my head, but I don’t care. It gives me a break from this confusing place. They don’t really understand. My mind is a safe space, at least most of the time.

I really wish I could just quit from all of my responsibilities, even if for a day. I’m exhausted in every sense of the word. I think I’m approaching getting burnt out past what is reversible.

I’ve been hearing something moving among the bushes this whole time I’ve been sitting under the stars. Should I go inspect or should I run away? I don’t know what to do…

November 19th, 2064

So, I figured out what the sound was. Looking up at the stars at night, I was approached by this stranger; she was a young deer, about the same age as me. She wasn't there to disrupt me or anything. We just turned out to have been doing the same thing for the past years, just that we had never crossed paths. She came with one of her friends, a young fox. They both wore beanies like me. I was already getting anxious knowing how weird I am, but they didn’t seem to care, nor did it seem to matter. For the first time ever, I felt welcome… and that felt… liberating.

“Who are you?” I asked them.

Both taking off their beanies, one of them replied, “We’re like you.”

I could feel warm streams rolling down my cheeks as I took off my beanie. A big smile drew on my face, and I felt like I could finally breathe after ages of trying to gasp for air. “Family…” I sobbed as I hugged them.

We have been friends ever since then, but it hasn’t been easy. Some part of me is still holding on to the belief that at some point they will leave me. And it hurts to think that. I haven’t felt so understood in a long while.

But I fear I might lose it.

March 20th, 2065

I knew it would happen. It had to happen. I should have known: it was too good to be true. I got into a bit of a disagreement ok, no, a huge disagreement, with both of my friends, and I don’t think I handled it like an adult should have. I think I screwed things up. I always do. Ugh!!

Why does it have to be so hard to describe what’s on my mind? Why does my mind always feel like there’s a hundred tabs open, with music coming out from three of them I can’t locate, twenty of them playing random video games, 78 of them are overthinking everything, and one of them is trying to do all the rational thinking and processing? My mind’s a mess, and I suppose that’s why I screw up every time.

I just want to tell them I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap out. Everything was just too much. This world is overwhelming, and I’m just trying my best to stay afloat with the rest. I’m really sorry for what I said. I never meant to. I know I’m a terrible person, and I’m really sorry.

June 30th, 2069

It’s been a long while since I wrote in this journal.

Life has been crazy, but it has been very, very fulfilling. I will take this time to celebrate over four years of friendship with my two closest friends: Nix and Willow. Yes, our friendships and lives have had their rough patches, but we’re still here. It’s been a journey; a beautiful one.

Was I born different? Yes. Will I ever be normal and fit in? No. But do I hate myself for that? No; or well, most of the time. At least I’m free. Free to live, dream, express, and grow. Free to be myself, and to better this world.