Judy (before NaNoWriMo)

I stared at the horrid yellow-orange wall while I'm supposed to be doing my Calculus homework. I just can't continue doing it. I remember that I used to like math. I used to be the vice president of our Math Club when I was in the Fifth Grade and I did quite well. Hell, I was in an advanced program. But now when I glance at my paper, all I see are squiggly lines, alien and annoying. I want to understand, I really do, and I want to do well again. Frustrated, I tapped my pencil on my desk continuously as music played softly. Everything felt like it was building then. I was very close to crying, the familiar tightening in my chest and heavy breaths creeping in. A new song started. One of  my favorites recently. A nice song that could make me full-on cry. So I did. While singing it.  
 
"And sometimes when you're on, you're really fucking on! And your friends they sing along and they love you," at this point I'm already standing up from my seat waving my hands madly, manically, singing as loud as I could.
 
"But the lows are so extreme, that the good seems fucking cheap and it teases you for weeks in its absence," I twirled and scream and let loose the frustrations of my horrible day.
 
"You'll be better and you'll be smarter and more grown up and a better daughter or son and a real good friend."
 
My vision was blurring and I was feeling a bit lightheaded. I felt my tears falling down then, and my throat choking on sobs, but I kept singing.
 
"...you'll be handsome and you'll be beautiful. You'll be happy," these few lines came as whispers, as soft cries, while my body seemed to move on its own with the music. As the song goes up, up, up, so did my voice, so did I.
 
"What the fuck, Judy!" I laughed to myself. "Your ship may be coming in, you're weak but not giving in! To the cries and the wails of the valley below. Your ship may be coming in, you're weak but not giving in! and you'll fight it you'll go up fighting all of them..."
 
The song was winding down and I was catching my breath, feeling stupid. And as always when I go up, I crash hard. After the dance and the screams and the laughs and the highs, I just end up an exhausted sniffling heap on the floor.
 
 
*Song is A Better Son/Daughter by Rilo Kiley