My mind is my best friend and my greatest enemy.
But you would never know that by just looking at me. All you would see is a girl quietly sitting in the corner, eyes glancing around the room, observing people. I can see through their masks. I can see patterns in life. I can recognize concepts you wouldn’t even dream of. I will store my observations for later, all of them waiting to transform into black ink on white paper.
My observations will amaze you. Not because they’re anything special, but because they’re so deep for a seventeen-year-old. I don’t have much life experience, but I have the uncanny yet unique ability to not only see what you cannot see, but to also put it into words that easily lets you see the observation through my point of view.
Some call it maturity. Others deem me as wise beyond my years.
I say it is my mind—my best friend.
Yet everything comes at a cost—even the ability God has given me.
My mind thinks on wavelengths that almost no other mind does. Mine works on an entirely different system than yours. You may not be able to see the patterns that I do, but you don’t overthink, either. A mundane task is just that to you—mundane. To me, it can be difficult at times, but only because my mind wants to analyze it way more than it needs to be analyzed. And forget about important things such as life decisions: I will agonize over those until I’m numb from thinking. But of course, then I think some more. The overthinking causes anxiety, insecurities, and lethargy. There have been nights when I stayed up into the wee hours of the morning, but not because I wanted to. It’s because my mind won’t shut up nor shut down.
Some call it a stress problem. Others deem that I put too much on myself.
But I say it is my mind—my worst enemy.