'Gifted Child Syndrome'

1.

I don't consider myself gifted.

However, I would say the gifted child syndrome still applies to me. I was raised as a normal kid in a five-member family. My parents didn’t have high expectations of me at first, not in a negative way, but in the sense that they didn’t pressure their kids to get straight As. Then, before I knew it, I felt an immense desire to be great. It first happened when I was 13. I texted my friend about it, but he simply told me he didn’t feel the same way, and I got so furious. Looking back now, I realize I acted like a toxic parent. I don't want to have kids, knowing that I might be toxic.

I have lived with that feeling for the longest time. I aced every subject I studied, I can draw, I can play a little instrument, and I am creative. Despite knowing so much, I can never strive to be the best at one thing. Gradually, I realized that I was just another human being with a big dream but without the necessary instrument. I thought I was better than this.

4. 
   

Last Saturday, I went out with my friend and told her how someone had once told me to learn to accept my flawed self. Everyone is shot. They are hollow and filled with voidness. Being an adult means accepting that as part of you. She told me I might have gifted kid syndrome. I smiled, but I never thought of myself as gifted. I just had too much faith in myself and my ability to be great, and now I am disappointed.

5. 
   

My dad always told me to believe in myself because I am his child. I love my dad, which makes it even worse. I don’t want to disappoint him. It’s not all negative, though. During this time, I became more humble; I was pulled out of my comfort zone and forced to face reality for once.

6. 
   

To conclude this nonsense, I found a piece of writing in my draft back on Sep. 13, which I think was interesting.

"On top of the world, I looked down. The wind was so strong it hurt my face. My face bled and shredded. I stumbled down and held my knees. Hard beads formed on my forehead. I took a huge breath. My feet sank into the ground, and people expected me to jump. All the invisible noise in the back pushed me far from the cliff, but I am now on top of the world. I could just cast away my dignity and jump. People under are waiting, but I am bound by society now. Where was my dream then? The freedom churning on my face was gone. Instead, a storm was coming, and I was left to deal with it."

This sounds far more exaggerated than what I was actually going through.

my room