I wake up with a dull light in my eyes.
(Y/n) thinks hewoke up happy today. He doesn't remember dreaming of anything, but the sleep was...never mind.
For maybeabout 5 seconds, (Y/n) wakes up and he feels...so peaceful. Until the memories start rushing in. Until he remembers who he was. Until he remembers what he's done. What emotional abuse he put himself through over the years. He feels so content with himself when he wakes up.
But then the memories begin to flood into his tinted mind.
This iscomplete bullshit. He thought to himself as he gets out of bed and makes his way to the bathroom.
Light bags under my eyes showing the lack of sleep, most likely permanent to my skin.
(Y/n) stares at himself through the mirror, frowning as the bags under his eyes became more evident. He doesn't remember dreaming of anything, so he can't blame his lack of sleep on a nightmare. He ran out of art supplies and new books a few days ago, so he couldn't say he stayed uplate.
It was strange, he falls asleep at 9:30pm and wakes up at 7:00am. That's plenty of sleep. But he still wakes up tired as balls. (Y/n) can sleep for a whole day and wake up the next one still tired. He should maybe see a doctor about his hypersomnia.
But what's the point?
I'm trying to find the joy of just waking up this day.
But no luck.
Not a lot of people can get up from their bed. Not a lot of people can just wake up all willy nilly.
Where depression makes you...just not care. Not care about getting out of bed. Not care about eating. Not care about showering. Not care about school or work. Depression makes (Y/n) just not care about anything.
Anxiety on the other hand, is the complete opposite. It makes (Y/n) care too much. If he doesn't getout of bed, he will miss his classes. If he miss his classes, he'll fail. If he fails, he won't be able to go into the art school he desperately wants to go to.
But all the people at the high school...he may be a Senior, but he will never get used to all the kids there. And that makes him want to stay home too.
It's a constant battle between depression and anxiety. Most days anxiety takes over. But then again, depression seems stronger a lotof days too.
I try to washaway my regrets with a shower, but I never scrub hardenough.
He tries letting go of the past. But all that happens is regret. Thinking how things could have gone, or should have been. Wishing his mistakes never happened. Or what he thinks were mistakes.
People he wish he never met. And friends he wish he never made. Or people he wished he had to the courage to talk to. And the classmates he wanted to befriend, but never made the effort to talk to them.
The friend he wish he could've saved. She's still around, but not in the head. He regrets not talking to her. Or rather, regrets being too scared to bring it up.
If he known how to save a life, he probably still wouldn't use that skill. Even if he knew best. She would've listen to him. She would've admit to everything. But instead, she'll never be the same all thanks to him.
I make sure to wear my mask.
People are so shocked to see his true self. Not that he's surprised himself. Everyone wears a mask.There was a time when it came that (Y/n) couldn't remove his maskwithout removing some of hisown skin. His mask wasn't him, but it became a part if him. (Y/n) forgets whohe is sometimes with his mask.
It has come to a pointto where he reminds himself that just because he acts strong, doesn't mean there's nothing wrong. He knows he's made a wrong turn once or twice, but he tries to forget that.
It looks almost exactly like me.
He's a great actor. He knows. You wear mask, soon you become what you pretend to be.
The only difference is the smile I force myself to wear before I greet the day.
His mask was made to look like him. To hide his sadness, his fears, his insecurities, his flaws, and his failures. Do they love him, or the mask he wears?
He doesn't have time for this. He has his mask now, he needs to get to school.
