My Very First Post

Hey, all you out there in Cyberspace,

My name is Cordelia Cross and I am so happy to meet all of you.
Is that an odd way to start off a post? I sort of like it, I think it might stick.

All my life I have written stories. I have been through a lot of different things, there have always had to deal with tons of changes and work to be the best person I can be in spite of them. To everyone else, I looked like this bright happy child shining with potential and inspiration, but on the inside, I was a totally different person.

I was anxious and suspicious of everyone. I never really knew who I could trust, and I had a hard time getting comfortable. I felt depressed and alone because I was constantly battling with who I wanted to be and who people wanted me to be. Any time I tried to explain what I had felt to the people around me, they insisted that what I was feeling was silly or "normal for someone my age". Deep down I knew it wasn't but I wasn't in a position to do anything about it. It also didn't help that I had seen enough to know that the people in my life usually had ulterior motives for their actions, and I didn't know how to open up around them further when they brushed me off.

As a result, I assumed a role. I pretended to be this confident, happy outgoing person for all of them. I thought it would be better if I fit into their little box of expectations and made sense to them. The more I worked to be that person for all of them, the more I felt myself slipping away. At night, when I sat down with a pen and paper and had real time for myself to write, I felt better again. For a little while, the world felt easier to face.

I never was much for writing a journal, I had tried so many times but I just couldn't do it. When I would write, I would create a whole new world where my characters would face situations similar to mine. From this new perspective, I could see things from all sides and shape a whole new outcome. It felt so liberating.

In the real world, I was quiet and observing. I spent most of my time analyzing and trying to make sure that noone caught on to the parts of me that I hid away. I thought that if I kept fighting for a better future and hiding the warped, hurt, parts of myself away they'd lessen.

They did, for a little while. But then I realized that in all of this I was only hurting myself and stripping myself of the chance to have a full, fulfilling life as who I am.

One morning I was in a study group before school. By mistake, I left one of my notebooks in the classroom. One of my teachers had opened it with the intent to see who it belonged to. She hadn't meant to pry, but she ended up getting sucked into the story and read the first chapter. When I returned to that classroom later on that day I still hadn't realized that I dropped my notebook. That is, until I saw it sitting on her desk. As I sat in my seat she told me to see her after class. I was so worried that I'd done something wrong I didn't know what to do.

The entire class I was full of anxiety, freaking out. I thought she was going to have me locked away or committed. When the last person had filed out of the classroom, I felt petrified. I sat there frozen to my seat waiting for her to speak and at the same time hoping she never would.

She walked over to my desk and pulled up a chair. I remember thinking that my classroom was on the bottom floor and that if I needed to, I could jump out of the window and get to safety pretty quickly. I would run to the nearby bowling alley and hide in their basement / pool hall until things blew over.

She started off by explaining to me that she had found my notebook. She had intended to only see who it belonged to, but through looking at the first two pages she had become so hooked into the story that she read the first entire chapter. She had asked me if this was the first story I had ever written.

I told her no and that I had boxes and boxes of notebooks at home full of stories but that I was too anxious and worried what people would think to do anything with them. When I wrote, it was for me, to help me cope with things and see things in a new light.

That was when she turned to me and explained that I could create a website anonymously to get my writing out there. If I wanted to, I could be a whole new person and no one would ever know unless I came out to them. That day, she had me stay in her classroom for my study hall, lunch, and then the study hall after (those were my next 3 class periods). During that time she helped me find a hosting platform I liked and she helped me design my background.

I went home that night and started to get together what my pen name would be and how I'd like to structure the site and my posts. Two days later, I am sitting here writing this post for all of you.

I hope you all have a wonderful day, and I hope you enjoy your time here at Cordeliacross.blogspot.com .

I am Cordelia Cross and I'll see you next time.