I’ve never been good at expressing my emotions. Whether I laugh it off, or say I’m okay, or avoid it like the plague, I know I’m not. It’s funny, (you can laugh) because some people might say that makes me a pathological liar.
However, sharing this with complete honesty and no take backsies, I hate the idea of being vulnerable. I hate talking about my issues. I hate that I hide it so well, everyone is either too stupid to believe it or too insignificant in my life to care.
What I hate even more though, is feeling like a burden to someone. Shocker right?
That the idea of letting someone in, allowing another human being to see the vomit and disgust that’s inside of me is so terribly wrong. It’s such an absurd thing, that we think like this.
That a vile, ill-willed little creature within us spreads thicker than water, reaching anywhere and everywhere to close us off from the rest of humanity. To plant a nasty thing inside that whispers, “Darling, be quiet.”
It tells me, “Honey they don’t care.”
It says “Please, save your dignity. Your pride.”
“They asked you how you’re doing. Answer them.”
But I’m doing horrible. I’m slipping again. I think I need help, I thought I was getting better, I’m doing-
“great!” I say with a smile plastered on my face.