Let’s play a game called Write a Story About Yourself.

I suck at this. XD

7. The Rocket-ship: Write about a rocket-ship on it’s way to the moon or a distant galaxy far, far, away.

When I was younger, I was obsessed with Star Trek. As a young girl with anxiety, I would escape into this wonderful world of spaceships and drama to hide from my own fears. I know, it’s clique, but I went a step too far.

I wore Vulcan ear tips to school for two years, carried around a notebook filled with ideas on how to build the Starship Enterprise, decided my goal in life was to make Starfleet academy, and memorized the dialogue in Trouble With Tribbles. I used to recite the script until I fell asleep at night. Weird, right?

I distinctly remember constantly feeling out of place. Of course, I now understand that it was simply my anxiety that made me feel like a didn’t belong, but at the time I thought I was just inexplicably weird. There was a point in time when I tried to fight the feeling, but I didn’t know the root. I didn’t understand it well enough to be able to end it, so instead I just gave in. I found myself purposefully going out of my way to be different. It started out pretty innocently, with a fascination about space.

I would plague my teachers with questions about space, I’d read thousands of books about space, and I would obsess over the Nasa website. I remember having all these crazy theories, like that space wasn’t really a vacuum or that the Earth was in constant danger of being hurtled into the sun.

My teachers were thrilled, especially my math teacher. They couldn’t have known how strange this whole deal was about to get. They couldn’t have known what I was about to do, and they recommended that I watch Star Trek.

I fell in love. For a long time, Star Trek is all I would talk about. I have an uncle who loved the show, and I feel so bad for the poor guy! I would talk his ear off about all these crazy fan theories, the making of the show, or whatever weird thing popped into my head. Then Halloween came.

I remember this day very vividly. I had a Bajorean costume from Star Trek: The Next Generation, but with rubber Vulcan ear tips and a Lieutenant Commander’s uniform. I felt so cool, so grown up as I went house to house, point a plastic Phaser at everyone I passed. I would yell “Make it so!” and “Warp Seven!” at random intervals, practically skipping throug the neighborhood. The night was over all too soon.

I didn’t want it to end. I didn’t want ot go back to being a normal little girl. I wanted, more than anything, to stay an alien from Star Trek for the rest of my life.

So I did.

The next day, I showed up to school in Vulcan ear tips. My classmates noticed, right off the back, and bombarded me with questions.

“What are those?” or “Why are you wearing them?” or even, “What is wrong with you?”

I panicked a little, and told them the ears were glued on, and I couldn’t get them off. This wasn’t a complete lie, as I had had a rough time getting the ears off the night before (we didn’t have spirit gum removal, so I ripped out some chunks of my ear).

I spent the rest of the year wearing Vulcan ear tips.

Needless to say, no one talked to me.

Then, middle school came. I started planning to build Starfleet Academy, my sister had a liver transplant, I brought back the Vulcan ear tips, and I started speaking in a British accent. Yup, it was a shitty time.

However, one really amazing thing came out of Middle School. I finally went to therapy. Cognitive Behavioral Therapy saved my life. Now I have friends! I have real life friends! Yeah, it sounds pathetic to say it like that, but boy it is so nice to have friends that don’t think you’re clinically insane because you are constantly wearing latex ear tips!

To all my friends- thank you for everything!


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