My name is B and I’m lost. I don’t think it’s even possible to be found anymore. You see, I came out of the factory broken. I’m just one of those people that bad things happen to. It’s a fact of life, one I always just accepted. But these past few years have been making it harder to trudge on. I get better, then get worse, then seem to get better again before I fall into a deep dark pit. I can’t tell anyone around me that I need help. I can’t let them know I’m not perfect. I feel like admitting that would make the world fall apart. Saying it out loud would make it real. And I can’t handle reality anymore.
This mask I wear has become a permanent fixture of myself. I can’t even tell who I ever was to begin with. And who can we be called a person if we don’t even know if we are one anymore? You see, I constantly put myself in these predicaments, where people depend on me, where they see me as brave, confident, fearless. What would they think if they knew how cowardly I was? If they knew that every waking second of every day all I think about is death. If they knew I was just a slave to the razor blade.
I left home, crossed the world, to get away. Yet here I am, a year later, in the same state of mind just different surroundings. I still find myself aching to finish it and be done done with everything. One more cut, that’s all I need. One more pill, to fall asleep. One more push, one more shove, and off the cliff I go. I’m supposed to go home soon. That’s what everyone thinks. They’ve always thought I was coming home. I never intended to. But that was last year, I’m supposed to have changed, gotten better, healthier. But now, with the clock on countdown, I’m starting to get nervous. What if I can’t go through with it? Should I? I’m constantly worrying about hurting other people with my actions. What if I scar the person who finds me? What if I leave a mess? I couldn’t bear having someone have to clean up after me.
And so now I’m faced with all these dilemas. And it’s stressing me out. I can barely function, let alone act perfect. All I want, is to escape, to get away. There must be a better world than this.. I just want to find it. Am I so wrong for just wanting out? For being human.
4 comments
I used to think I had to be perfect and faked it all the time. Eventually that broke my body completely down and I became physically sick all the time…what is it you do not want to go back to at home? Is that why you want to escape? Is there anyone you can sit down and talk to about this? there is no shame in how you are feeling. It is how most people feel a lot of the time….As you said, you are being human. You sound like a compassionate person, even caring about who might find you and how it might affect them….try to care about yourself in that same manner. I hope you find someone you can talk to and run your thoughts and feelings by before you make a decision you can’t change….
There’s just so much I’d like to avoid back home, as long as I’m not there then they can’t touch me. I don’t just want to escape them though, I want to escape me. I just don’t know how to care about myself, it’s just not an ability I was taught. I hope I can too because I hate rash decisions, but it seems like every turn I make is coming to the same conclusion.
Hi B. It seems to me that you feel like you are ‘carrying the world on your shoulders.’ It’s okay if you can’t accomplish everything that you have promised people in your life. No one is perfect and no one should be expected to be perfect. I think you should start focusing on healing yourself, before trying to help everyone around you. Also, I think it would be helpful to you if you tell your friends and family how you are feeling. That way, they will understand that you need help and its okay to ask for help.
Thanks, and I wish I could ask for help, but it’s really not an option. I’ve tried before with disastrous results, they just sent me away to another country. There’s no way to broach the topic, because people in my family don’t get help, because that’s admitting imperfection, which is the greatest sin of all in their eyes. I think my friends will feel the same.