Horrible.
Just, awful.
That's how I'm feeling. With my eyes puffed up and my head pounding. I feel... down.
Sometimes you just want encouraging words you know.
I want to be told that it's okay. That I'm okay. You are here for me. You love me. Eventhough you don't understand, you would stay.
But things are not so point blank you know.
I remember when I was 15 and I went through a rough patch. I was a teenager, finding my footing, not knowing who I am. I was sad. Refused to eat. Refused to sleep.
Looking back now I might have been depressed. Not self diagnosed depressed. Clinically. Like it's a disease.
But people don't turn around to look at me and ask how I am. My parents took one swift look at me and disregarded me as being a brat. My friends noticed that I was quiet and isolated myself. They just let me be.
But I know I was sad. No matter what people say about me overthinking it. Or being a drama queen. I was sad and I lost 15 kg in 3 months.
I was chubby so people thought it was for the better. I thought it was for the better.
But in 2010, for the whole 2 months of school holidays I remember lying in my bed not knowing nor caring whether it's night or day and I would just lie there. No laptop, no phones. No human contact nor conversation. I just lied there for hours and end.
People don't like it when you're sad about nothing. Or about what they perceive as nothing. Do I grudge them for abandoning me? No. In that state of mind, that numbing loneliness, I accepted. I thought I was worthless that's why nobody cared.
I picked myself up from the ground. Dusted myself off. And I continued living. I let go of the abandonment. I blamed myself for being sad.
What's the point of this story?
It is that I'm a lonely person. I see faces around me that I thought I love. That I thought love me back. And I knew I would do so much for them. If they were sad about nothing I know I would be there for them.
But they will not be there for me. They would think I'm making it up. Searching for drama. I'm just an overthinker with a flair for theater. Never mind if I wake up pounding from hours of crying. Never mind that. I brought this upon myself.
I have no right to expect company.
I am not loved.
I am...
alone.
No comments:
Post a Comment