A battle, a fight, another day. Every morning I wake up and the first thing I do is check to see if I still remember how to smile, I’m not sure when it happened but piece by piece my emotions were shattered and I slowly started faking them to get by.
I guess it did have a beginning. I once had a dream, a direction in which to aim for and look forward to, but it fell to pieces and went from being a realistic future to a childish night time fantasy. I tried to fix it, I tried to create a new dream, but every time I found something it was destroyed before I could renew my hopes. Â And so the battle began in full. It was not long before my life startedÂ spiralingÂ out of control.Â OpportunitiesÂ and new experiences came by and I watched as they floated by. A few times I would reach out and try to grasp them but always they escaped until now I no longer really care. Every day I just search for some excuse to justÂ disappear.
I tried to trust people, I tried to explain how I feel, but always I found myself lacking the words to describe myself and that led to misunderstandings which only ended up hurting someone. So I gave up. I started to just fake my expressions, to smile and say that everything is fine. It works, people now comment on how happy I seem and how full of life I am…it is all a lie. I have not felt happy in a long time. It is just easier, I hate hurting those who love me and it seems that a lie will hurt them less than the truth, the truth they cannot understand. The truth would devastate them.
Love….Love is something I do not understand anymore. I think I was “in love” once….maybe twice, but I no longer remember. Sometimes I try to look back and try to understand what I felt, maybe to relive it? but then I think it was just a move on my part to conform with the norm of society, another emotion faked long before I lost my way. I doÂ apologizeÂ to the girls, I just never was the right person, I never knew what to do. All I did was a calculated move to fit in.
I’m 23, isolated within myself and terrified of living, of having to face a new day. I am terrified of the choices andÂ decisionsÂ that I must make, terrified that something I do might hurt someone, terrified that I might be wrong and should have said something sooner. I am no longer scarred of death tho, I have accepted it, accepted that it is an inevitable end to thisÂ existenceÂ I call reality. I now think that I would welcome it. Would the knowledge that I no longer have to feel anything anymore, that nothing matters anymore, bring me a second, or even a millisecond, of peace? If so then I would embrace death with open arms because that is all that I hope for, a brief respite to the darkness in me. But it is a decision, and I don’t deal with those well, so for now I live on, fighting a battle between whether it is better to die or live another lie.
Anger is something I do understand, but never towards others, only inwards. I see people playing around, laughing, running, smiling, and I do not understand how they can be so happy and why I cannot. So I get angry, I let the rage slowly eat away at the void inside my mind. What is wrong with me? Is there something wrong with me? Once the rage has filled me I get ashamed and loath myself just that little more. I tried cutting myself, but it did nothing for me. Slowly watching theÂ life forceÂ flow out of me was dwarfed by the mental agony I feel.
I am trying to get help, but I’m not sure whether I want it, Â not sure whether someone else can give the aid that I am looking for. Not sure whether I am ready to reveal myself fully to someone else. I often wish I had not shared my concerns and feelings, even now as I write this I amÂ questioning what I am doing. They are my burdens to carry, my secrets to keep. I often wish they would fade away and be forgotten as I fall to sleep, but come morning I know that they shall haunt me another day.Â They are often minorÂ occurrences, nothing worth wasting time on, a choice I once made, a look someone once gave me, something I heard. I often don’t remember them, I just remember the feeling of disgust that torments me for hours before I can fall to sleep.
So now I find myself here writing my mind, saying things that even those closest to me have never heard nor suspected. I don’t know why I am doing it, I don’t know how I came to be writing down thoughts that I have long since given up on. I guess it is because I want to tell someone….anyone my truth.
I am tired, tired of living, tired of faking my life. I am inside a bubble that I call my mind with my thoughts locked away while I watch as my body goes through the motions as if someone else was controlling it. I am not the most unfortunate person, people out there are worse than me, people have bigger problems. I have a loving family and a few good friends but none of them understand me, none of them know me. So if you have read this far I want to thank you, thank you for reading my truth, thank you for listening to a depressed mind trapped within its own body. Thank you, and I am sorry. Sorry that I cannot listen to your problems, sorry that I have taken you away from those who deserve your attention more than I. Sorry that I have rambled, sorry that this truth is so confused andÂ disorganized.