To be honest I don’t even know what I’m doing here or why. I think I just need to vent and maybe, just maybe, be “understood”. I don’t mean to sound like a childish teenager who no one understands and no one ever would, I just don’t know how else to phrase it.
I used to be really depressed, for 3 years actually, although that is mostly blown over now. Some things though never seem to go away, how I act and behave is still highly influenced by those defining 3 years leading up to my late teens. I get annoyed by people, and push people away, I want to be alone but I still don’t. Another characteristic that stuck with me is that I don’t talk to people just because, if I talk to someone it’s because of a reason and I don’t ask for help or talk about my problems. Really don’t know why, but I never talk to anyone about how I feel and my problems, I just don’t, I can’t. But I feel like I have to ventilate to someone, anyone. Maybe that’s why I’m writing here, I don’t know.
I have friends, quite a few actually, but I have never been more scared of dying alone. I’m scared that I’ll just wither away and be forgotten, I’m scared that I’ll be left behind. I watched an episode of the TV-series Scrubs a few years back and I still remember a quote like it was yesterday “Because nothing sucks more then feeling all alone, no matter how many people are around.” and I can genuinely relate to that. I don’t want to be able to relate to that.
I’d like to think I’m not, I don’t think I am, but maybe I am just another childish teenager. You see, during my depression, in hindsight, I really think I wanted attention. I think I wanted people to think sorry for me, so I could turn them down and feel like I had a single shred of strenght in my body. So either I’m just a random teenager who thinks he’s special and unique in that I am misunderstood, God I hate saying that word, or I really am special and unique and I DO have a real problem. I don’t know which is more terrifying and which I’d prefer, maybe the first one, atleast that way I’d be sure it’s just a phase that will pass and I wont die alone, time will tell.
People that see and meet me for the first time think I’m a really social and outgoing person, they think I’m just the opposite of how I see myself. You see, under the three years I was depressed people outside my family only knew for a short period of time towards, and that was because I told them. No one ever even suspected anything, because I became SO GOOD at pretending. I became so good at pretending to be something I was not, happy, and with that I was a different person. I don’t know who or what, but it wasn’t me. That has come to bite me now, because I don’t know who I am anymore, I don’t know if I’m still wearing that mask and it’s killing me.
When you wear a mask for too long it eventually gets hard to tell the difference, you lose yourself slowly but surely. I don’t know what’s the mask and what’s me. Too often I catch myself lying to people, saying I’m fine, when I feel like I’m drowning.
As if that wasn’t enough I can’t help but feel bad, really bad, because I, who is living a relatively good life with no “real life” problems, feel bad. Yeah, it’s stupid, I know… I feel bad because others feel worse and I’m ashamed of myself for even considering that my problems are relevant. So many people struggle to even be able to live and there I am, living in the richest parts of the world feeling sorry for myself. No matter how much I feel like that though, I still do feel bad and alone.
I tried to kill myself once, but I realize how egoistic that is and wont try again. So I’d much rather just endure the pain in silence without anyone knowing than either have someone try to help and understand the dephts of my despair or end it and die. I’ve come to terms with that the only thing suicide would do is drag down my family with me, and I would never ever want to be the cause of that.
I sympathize really strongly with people and really genuinely don’t want to cause anyone any pain. If anyone suffered from pain, especially if it was for any reason caused by me, I would much rather suffer from twice that pain in silence and just keep smiling outwards. I’d keep pretending everything was fine and would much rather not even have them know.
I don’t know if I feel alone is because I am too scared to really put my neck out there. Maybe I’m so scared of failure I stopped trying, maybe I’m just tired of trying so hard or maybe I really just suck.
After writing this I really feel like a walking cliché, now more than ever, and I hate it. Because maybe all of this is just me being a sissy, weak-willed coward.
If you’ve actually read this far, thank you and I’m sorry for bothering you. Have a really nice day.