I get it

I received the results today. It hurts so much.

I’m not allowed to cry. I’m not allowed to feel devastated over not getting what I worked my ass off for. I’m not allowed to dwell on the what ifs. I’m not allowed to be in pain because I just found out that those hours-days-months-years I spent was useless. I’m not allowed to feel bad for failing.

I’m supposed to be strong. I’m supposed to get the fuck up if I fall down and move on, move forward. I get it. I get what I’m supposed to do.

But I can’t.

I’m not the strong person you think I am.

I can’t.

It’s funny though, because these past few months I’ve been so depressed I could barely get out of bed. I was just totally down. I’ve thought of dying and wanting to die over and over and over. Everyday was a downward spiral. I didn’t know how I could get up, to even move.

But when I got the results, I didn’t know how to feel. Do I cry? Do I sulk? Should my depression become more crippling?

But then you come in with your “words of wisdom”, telling me “that’s the way it is”, that it’s useless to cry.

I know. I know. I know all that.

But it still hurts.

And I can’t just get up and move and everything will be okay.

But I can pretend. I’m very good at acting.

Of course I am. Never once in the entire time you’ve known me have you ever thought I’d be brought so low as to put your gun to my head.