Have you ever sat on your own, tears flowing, and considered the fact that maybe no one would ever know you the way you know yourself? That maybe you would always be alone in some way, shape or form? Have you ever stayed until someone finally asked you to leave? Have you ever thought that maybe all you’ll ever have is yourself?
Maybe you have, maybe you haven’t. But that’s my world.
Footsteps behind you when you walk, shadows following you, picturing the person talking to you stabbing you, dreams of lifetimes that are not your own – waking up as somebody else, fighting off your self-hatred with a stick made from the voices of stronger people.
But worst of all is the longing. Longing to be someone else, longing for someone’s arms around you, longing for that one thing or person that you can’t ever have.
Do you know what it’s like to sleep alone in somebody else’s soul, rather than their arms? To get so lost in someone’s eyes that you lose all self-respect? To lose yourself, be asked who you are and not have a single word on your tongue, just blank? To forgive someone anything, simply because you love them so much? To want nothing more than to take everyone else’s hurt and suffering and keep it for yourself?
I hope for your sake that you don’t. This world is kind to be cruel, kind to be kind. Cruel to be kind, and cruel to be cruel.
But this is just my outlook. You could romanticize this shamelessly, and most people do. So let’s rephrase, glass half full.
I have lots of time on my own, and sometimes I just cry it all out. Everyone needs to cry sometimes, it’s really so healthy. You know, I think it’s so great that nobody will ever know me completely, that way you’ve always got something left for yourself. It’s not healthy to give all of yourself to someone.
I’m super in touch with the spirit world, I can hear ghosts all the time. They’re so friendly. Sometimes it’s good to wish for things you can’t have, it’s so motivating. I have these awesome dreams, like I actually get to live different lives and it’s so cool!
If you love someone who doesn’t love you back, I think it’s just such a lesson. It really teaches you so many things, and what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?
You can probably tell that I’m used to being a fake. Used to smiling when I feel like crying, laughing when I feel like dying and dancing when I feel like sleeping for the rest of my life. I have to be what other people want me to be, and if I show emotion that isn’t happiness, it makes other people feel bad. So I don’t. I bottle it all up, and cry alone, hugging myself because no one else will.
I won’t lie, I’m not always miserable, quite the contrary. I’m genuinely happy most of the time. But the pressure of being perfect gets old after a while.
For example, it’s like loving swimming, and swimming for three miles every day… then being told you have to do three miles every single day, right here, right now, or else. And you end up hating swimming.
So I think the problem here is not that we can’t be happy, but that we feel so pressured to be happy we end up not liking being happy.
Let’s take a look at what would happen, say, if someone asked you “Are you okay?” And you said “Actually, I feel like dying right now.”
It does obviously depend on the person, but the majority of people would react like this: their eyes would widen, eyebrows shooting up. They’d say something stupid like, “Oh, that’s cool then,” and they would walk away to go and tell their friends about the mad bitch that’s suicidal.
And it doesn’t help that depression has become such a societal norm. If you tell someone you’re depressed, they just treat it like you said “I go to the bathroom every day” because it’s so normal. When did this happen? Now girls who get a bit tearful on their period and guys who get sad sometimes are being prescribed antidepressants like they’re Smarties. Give me one good reason why this is acceptable. I’ll tell you why: it makes money.
Let me tell you something. You’re not depressed, you’re an ordinary human being. You might need some therapy, but you don’t need to get addicted to antidepressants that will turn you into a zombie. They don’t work. And you know what the side effects of coming off them include? I’m being picky here, especially as coming off some of them can kill you, but I’ll give you the most unsurprising: depression.
Yeah. You see? You get why I’m so mad? It’s a big scam. Like the anti-dandruff shampoos that give you more dandruff if you stop using them.
I’m going to stop ranting now, but have a think about some of the stuff I just said. And spread the word, if you dare…