bad day -- november 12th, 2014 / la. california / 3:12 am
Throughout her nineteen years of life, Iris had experienced many things, both good and bad. The first time she visited the zoo could be described as the best day of her life, or even the first time she met her band mates was up to par. So many days in her life has Iris spent with her friends and family, laughing until the point of tears, and overall just enjoying the moment. But with the good comes the bad. Everything in Iris’ life must be balanced, therefore the amount of bad days she had come close to the amount of good. Losing her dog at eight years old was so tragic for her. Iris could barely breathe she was crying so hard. This was the first of many anxiety attacks. Despite it just being a small animal she hardly cared about, the doe eyed child was broken up, even telling her parents she’d “rather die in a world without Oreo.” This, of course raised suspicion among her family. After spending days in her room, doing nothing but crying, Iris was taken to the hospital and diagnosed with bipolar disorder. She would have to describe this as the ultimate bad day, but many have come close. Yet for no reason at all, she awoke at three-thirty in the morning, telling herself, today was a bad day.
Many people have told Iris that if you wake up with a positive mentality, the rest of your day will be nothing but sunshine and rainbows. To this, Iris can only say that it’s complete bull shit. A facial expression cannot plan your whole day for you. Days like this were when Iris was pissed at the world, wanting nothing more than to lie under her blankets all day and cry. However, despite how horrible she knew today was going to be, she had a shoot, meaning she’d be forced out of bed within the next two hours. She was lucky, as today it was just an interview with her. Iris loves her band mates dearly, but because she spends so much time with the three boys, there’s no doubt they’re considered the most annoying people in her life right now. Looking at the clock, she realized only four minutes had gone by. It’s crazy how active her mind is this early in the morning. Too many times has she woken up at this same hour, feeling the same despair, and having to wake up to do the same thing. Iris loves everything about her life, but she feels as if lately, it’s getting a bit too repetitive. Wake up, get hair and makeup, eat, attend performance or interview, go home, sleep, and repeat. Lately, Iris was sick of it.
She closed her eyes, attempting to be able to sleep for the next two hours before she had to leave. Even before her singing career took off, Iris never had to wake up at five thirty on the dot. It was a pain in the ass, truthfully. Still, she accepted it, as this was better than working at a rundown grocery store as she originally thought she would be doing at that age. Too many times has Iris wondered if none of this had ever happened, what would she be doing? Would she be happy? Sad? Is she even happy right now? If you were to ask her this head on, she couldn’t give you an answer. She loves her family, friends, band mates, and fans, but there is still one person Iris doesn’t think she will be capable of ever loving – herself.
It pains her to even think about all of the things that are wrong with her, yet she continues to do it anyways. Ever since the day she turned thirteen, she was given the burden of acne, something that worsens with the products her makeup artist uses to hide it. Her broken hair, frail and uncooperative due to all the times her management has forced her to dye it. And on top of the list, her bipolar disorder. Even though Iris has lived with it her entire life, she still has no idea how to cope with it, or even what the hell it is. Thinking about the illness brings the petite girl to tears, but how is she able to ignore it if the disease affects her every waking moment? Every decision Iris makes all depends on the future, never in the moment. “If I do this, will I regret it in two days, when I’m no longer feeling the same?” Never once has she answered this question correctly. She’s always changing. Whether it be her looks or mood, nothing every stays the same with Iris for too long – and she hates it.
Turning to the clock, she saw that it was already five in the morning, and her vision was already blurred with tears. She couldn’t do it. Iris has to call of the interview. But if she calls off the interview, she will get a bad reputation. And if she gets a bad reputation, no one will ever want to interview her again. And if no one wants to interview her again, her career is ruined. If her career is ruined, so are the careers of all her band mates. Overthinking has always been a flaw of Iris’, and in moments like these are where it’s immensely prominent.
Maybe she just shouldn’t take her pill for today. Whenever Iris has neglected to take her medicine in the past, she’s always felt like herself – for the first ten minutes of the day, that is. Chances are that she won’t speak to anyone during the times she refuses to take her pills, which is why it’s so obvious to her family. But here in LA, her family is nowhere to be seen, so that makes it okay, right? Iris doesn’t know the point of these questions she often asks herself, as she is the only one who will be giving an answer. If someone from the media were to see what’s going on inside her head, they’d think she’s crazy. But that’s the thing, Iris is crazy, psychotic even. Iris has been, and always will be, an emotional mess. Either she overthinks a situation, or drastically under thinks it. Never is she happy with the way things are, and in her mind, never will she be happy ever again. There is balance in Iris’ life, but never in her head. Everything inside her is twisted all around, in directions she didn’t even know existed. That’s why Iris has these bad days, because inside her head, everything is all bad. “You can change how you think with these pills.” Iris will often sigh when her doctor says this to her. “But I’m not myself when I take them.” Iris will respond. “That’s the point.” And with that, she’d have to storm out of the room in order to prevent smacking the man across the face.
She put down the phone, after telling her manager she will not be able to do anything today, as she has come down with a nasty cold. He knows Iris is lying, but can’t do anything about it. When things like this happen, Iris feels in control. Power is a dangerous thing in which someone like her should not be toying with, but sometimes, she can’t help to play with the small amount of it she has. It makes her smile when she sees the looks on the faces of those who work for her when she refuses to do something. In times like this, Iris feels like a puppet master. Every waking moment of their lives revolves around making her the prettiest, most talented, well-educated woman in the world. And Iris hates it. She wishes they’d all leave her alone to do her own hair, write her own songs, and say her own words during interview. It’s like they all think she’s incapable of thinking, which is one of the main reasons why she refuses to even say anything at all. Silence is a virtue, which is why Iris seems to always abuse it.
Iris hates her life. Despite how many comments she reads about how perfect she is, every single bit of herself from her feet to her head, Iris despises. There aren’t a lot of people she takes kindly to, but her number one enemy is, and always will be, herself. She knows she needs help. Many people tell her it, but she already knows how messed up she is. Does that mean she’ll listen to them? No. She’s incapable of listening to the wants of others, no matter how hard she tries. Of course, she’ll listen to what they want her to do for the time being, but never anything long term. Iris is afraid of commitment. Even if one thing in her life is altered, it’ll all come crashing down.
