The Coward's Way Out
I've come to a point in my life where everything I do doesn't seem to have a purpose. Going to school? No point. Hanging out with friends? Meh, okay. Waking up in the morning…Maybe not. This feeling of no sense of purpose scares me because it leaves me blind in a sea of darkness and despair. There's no light to guide me the way out and everyone that's with me can't see the inner turmoil I'm in. I'm constantly alone in a room full of people and it's like I'm screaming out to people, and know one can hear me.
I honestly don't know what's a worse thought to me. The fact that the mask I put up each and every day pretending to be happy has gotten so good no one can tell what my true feelings are, or if people simply do not care. Sometimes when I say, "I'm okay," I want someone to look me in the eyes, hug me tight, and say," I know you're not," and just let me know that things will be okay and that they'll get better.
I really want to talk to someone about my thoughts and feelings but no matter how hard I try, I just can't. The fear of being told I'm over reacting and having my feelings invalidated scares me too much and makes me feel like a coward. If I were to say something to someone, I'd probably say, "Lately, I've been feeling so dead in my own skin," but no one would understand that so instead I remain quiet in my own little world of solitude that I've created for myself. I think another reason I keep my feelings to myself is because I can't actually explain them.
I know one of the best things for me would probably be to talk to a counselor or someone experienced, but I can't because that would involve speaking to my parents about it. For some reason that thought terrifies me because I don't want them to feel like they've done anything wrong or that they've failed. I'm also terrified of telling my friends because I'm afraid that they'll decide that I'm not worth fighting for and decide to leave me alone to try and fight off the demons in my mind that tell me I'm worthless and not worth having in the world.
I saw a quote the other day that goes, "What is more deadly? A gun or a thought? A gun gives you the opportunity but a thought pulls the trigger." What if it's neither of these though. What if what drives us to do these things is actually fear. The fear of having so many words to say, but no ways to say them. The fear of looking into our futures and seeing no hope, no happiness, nothing at all.
At the end of the day, smiling and pretending I'm fine has always been easier than explaining why I'm sad. I took the coward's way out.