Jealousy, Jealousy

Ever since I was younger, I was always pressured to be the best. My mom used to compare me to everyone, especially my friends. She would say that it was to motivate me to do better, but it only made me turn out to be bitter and created an unhealthy competition. When my BEST friend moved away, I could not mourn. The first thing I thought was "Good. Now mom can't compare me to her." I felt horrible after it, but it didn't stop. It never did and I don't think it ever will. It turned me toxic. Every single assignment was a competition with my friends. Every single silly game I would take seriously. I forgot what being a kid meant. In middle school I took Pre-APs (Advance Placement) for every single subject. Trig in 8th grade, etc. At the age 14 I knew my entire high school schedule, what college I would aim for, my future job. Even the tiniest shit I would over think "Would my mom like this? WIll this make me more successful than my friends?" But I had one friend I could never surpass. I loved her, she was amazing and sweet, but she was smarter than me. If someone were to talk about the smartest over achieving person in the school they would say her name. School president, Honors president, everything belonged to her. And I hated her for it. I hated my best friend for succeeding. Those positions were supposed to be mine. So I tried to become popular. It worked. Ish. I am popular to some extent, but it isn't enough. And when I see girls who are so much more popular than me, effortlessly, I just don't know what to do. I spend every free second outside of classes (during the school day) in the popular kids hangout spot but it just isn't enough. I can't blame everything on my mother, maybe a part was always selfish and petty, but she took away my childhood, to make sure her status was safe. I had to be everything my mother wasn't. A Taekwondo artist, A Dancer, A Volleyball athlete, A doctor, My life was centered around pleasing my mother. So I lied. And when she found out, she hated me, and couldn't trust me. I could never please her. So what is the point of my life? Who am I living for? Not for myself, for the child I could never be, for the friends I could never really have. I loved them and pulled them up until they were good to surpass me. Then I tried to break them as hard as I could. I hate my mom, but not really because she is the reason I am born. She took me to the mall, held me when I cried. So who else can I hate? I hate myself and my problems and depression and my anxiety and OCD and god knowns what else I have. - "Rather be anyone else, Jealousy, Jealousy"