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I just wanted to repost a tale I wrote 155 days ago prior to this moment. I was weeding through my tales deleting any unnecessary ones and this one is my absolute favorite. I remember how raw I was feeling that particular day. I hope it resonates with a few friends again as much as it did 155 days ago. Love ya!
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Why?
Why?
I write because its an outlet. I write because the paper, the screen, they never reject my honesty. I'm never looked down upon and stared at oddly because my truth is raw or different. I write because for all of my life my writing has always stayed steadfast and true and reliable. People love you when you're smiling, even if they KNOW you're faking it. Rather you fake it than dare make them uncomfortable with your true feelings.
No one gets it but everyone has it...
I hear all these phrases coined, like "emo" and "dark". So clearly there are people out there feeling down from time to time other than angst ridden teens. Depression is one of most overlooked illnesses in this country. Why? Again, because it is unspoken that people will you to paste a fake smile across your pie hole rather than make them uncomfortable with your true self. The real you that appears when all those polished layers of exterior are peeled away is frightening to most. Think about it.
Although depression is widely acknowledged, deeply studied and overly medicated - most people would rather perform their own root canal before discussing their own personal story with you or anyone. Now that violence in the workplace and at high schools and college campuses is so common, people are afraid to frown too much or be "too down" or "too quiet" or "too much of a loner" lest they be equated with the Ted Kazinski's of the world. Of course I understand that NO ONE wants to be around someone that has needless, excessive and consistent drama. Hell, its fucking exhausting to listen to that endless stream of crap when all you said was, "Oh hey! How are you?"
But that's not me. For once - okay, no not once, maybe a few times - I want someone to actually care about how I feel and not wish a fake smile on me if I don't feel so well. Just a few times, I'd like someone to try to cheer me up, to push me out of bed, to throw open the drapes and pull up the blinds. For once...
I'd like someone to care about me. Just me. Not "hot girl" or "sexy girl" or "party girl" or "what are you doing this weekend girl"... just me. Plain ole, flawed fucking ME.
Am I so bad, so un-perfect that I don't deserve that much?
I guess I am.
And I always will be.
Fuck it. I'm moving to a deserted island.
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Unknown "Turua" Tired & Worried
- 16 years, 2 months, 10 days ago
