Broken Brain

It actually took me a really long time to figure out that I wasn’t normal. Up until 6th grade I thought the things I did were perfectly average. I probably should’ve noticed something was wrong when I was the only one who thought it was normal to get up in the middle of class, collect all the thumbtacks in the room, and organize them by color and size, all while participating fully in class.

In my defense, my brain obviously doesn’t function normally. I have OCD. Usually what happens is I feel the need to organize or rearrange things, because if I don't someone might die. Teachers are tolerant…to a point. I mean, my English teacher was perfectly fine with me scraping the gum off the bottoms of all the desks, because the whole time I was being polite and taking notes. However, my computer teacher wasn’t so happy when I felt it was necessary to switch all the keyboards around.

My parents insisted I wasn’t put in a mental hospital and that I go to a normal school and be placed in normal classes. Basically, they want me to live like a normal person, no matter what. So, thanks to them, I’ve always been the “weird” one, the one who got picked on and made fun of and gossiped about. I got used to it eventually. But, honestly, I would’ve rather been in a mental hospital or special classes or something. At least I wouldn’t feel like such an outcast there. Or so I’ve been told.

So, what happens when you’ve got a broken brain and somehow you find yourself attracted to the perfectly wrong person, who may or may not like you back? Well, I can’t exactly answer that quickly, so I’m just going to tell you the whole story, starting from the first day our eyes met.