Sorry for the long post
Ever have anything happen & people look at you like you’re crazy? Even if it’s not your fault you overreacted? Where you feel so claustrophobic & you’re trying to get out of the way? It makes you feel like shit & even tho it’s not that big of a deal, you just want to die? All the little things bottled up, you try so hard not to explode. Ever sit there and force yourself not to cry and cut, even tho that’s exactly what you need. You just keep tying that rope even tighter and try to support yourself, but your whole body is going out. It’s like drowning, hoping the pain ends soon but you don’t want to drown. You just can’t fight anymore. You try to breathe, but it hurts. You see the light at the tunnel, that’s suppose to be your happiness, but a earthquake happens & there’s no more light. The small rocks blocked it. You have to dig yourself out. People pass by and ask if you’re okay, if you need help, but walk away but it’s too painful on them to hear the truth. You say it in a way to cover up the feelings, but letting some spill over. You’re stuck redigging, the sweat being your tears, the exhaustion from constantly digging, and the fear of not ever completing it. How long are you suppose to keep digging? When is it okay to step off the stool, to give up while drowning, and to stop digging? People will say never, that you’ll be okay, but your heart is saying it can’t take anymore. You just want to stop, but you can’t. You have to keep going for the people who can’t help you and sometimes won’t help you. You keep going until natural causes takes you. You keep crying until there are no tears left. You fake that smile. Take a shower so you can cry, no one will wonder. Scream in your pillow, they won’t hear. Hide your scars so you can keep letting all the pain out. You are in control of that. You control that pain, where other pain is uncontrollable. Sometime it’s easier to give up, just not for other people. I hide my pain, my tears, and act like I’m strong. That’s when the small things make me overreact. I know I will be happy for a few days out of the month. I know I will never be completely happy. I just have to wait until something takes me, that is out of my control. I am scared of dying, but scared of living. I need the pain to end. I need someone to hold me while I cry, someone to listen to everything even if it’s ranting or crying. I need somebody. Nobody will understand and they don’t want to. They just act like you’re overreacting, even if it’s a cry for help. Everybody puts their hands up to stop you. But nobody puts their hands out to help you up from a hole, they digged for you. They won’t apologize for what they did to you, for the scars they created, the extra pain they added. They will make you believe you are a shitty person, before they ever realize it was them. They will call you names, names that tear you apart, names that they really are. They will walk away so quickly from you, but don’t you dare walk away from them. You must stay and never be mad at them. They will throw rocks at you, then ask why you are bruised. You will stop the rain from touching them, but let the lighting strike you. You are not important, just an accessory to their life. They decide when you are needed, but you’re always wanted. You say nothing, for more people will hate you. You just slowly die while everyone around you wonders why. You shut down and you are wrong for that. You are nothing. You will always be nothing, no matter how hard you try. It won’t ever be enough for people, even as you are taking your last breath. You are stuck with nowhere to go, praying that you will become a better person, even if you’re not horrible. You will get upset that your prayers aren’t answered, because you need someone to love you, but they won’t because of who the people say you are. You believe the words and the names, if it’s true, why should you live for them? They want you to stay for their own selfish reasons, but don’t understand how hard you are trying and how much you are dying. They won’t care about you until you are on your deathbed, then they will grieve . Grieve for someone who did everything, and now they are no longer there to do things. They will grieve for a bitch, a selfish person, a jealous person, a stupid person, a whore, a fatass, a annoying person, a overreacter, someone who yells all the time, a petty person, not a sister, granddaughter, daughter or friend. No, they will grieve for what they called me and made me believe I am. They will grieve for the scars they gave me. Though they all are not visible, they are just as important. My heart torn in spots that can’t be repaired. Cuts that can’t close fully, showing the world. I have learned and changed, so people will love me. They won’t. I can never be the person everyone wants me to be. I can be excited for people and go out of my way for them, but it doesn’t matter. They got what they want, I’ll never be enough. I will never be enough. Why will their tears be more important than mine? Why should I have to cry everyday? They will act like they can’t live without me, but they can, they have already. My soul died a long time ago, I’m just stuck in this body. The light went out, as I tried to fight. I am drowning. More weight being pushed on me, but I have to fight. Why must I do this? Why must I be this way? Why am I me? Why? That will always be a question, but I will never get a answer. I will go through life, never knowing why. I will go through life hoping, but never getting. I get life is unfair and hard, but I need a break from it. I can’t do it for much longer. I’m not strong. One day.
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