people complain about everything. I mean that's what poeople do;complain.
but they didn't complain about me because i was...subtle. I was resilient and silent, and a sponge to everything and everyone. But I was quiet so no one knew.
They all loved me. I got along with everyone.
It's like how we love our pets. Sure, we can pretend that they have personalities and that we have a personal bond with each one of them, but in all honesty, I think we love our pets so much because they don't speak our language. They can't respond negatively to what we do, and they definatly can not oppose us verbally.
So that's what I was like. Silent, understanding.
My main goal was to make everyone else happy, at whatever cost.
As long as there was no conflict between the other people in my life then it didnt matter what I was feeling inside.
I numbed myself; suppressed my feelings so that I wouldn't be able to hear them over everyone else's issues.
So then they were happy. And happy people notice misery less.
So I told myself I was happy.
I beleived it too.
But the truth is, I don't think I had felt "Happy" in such a long time, that I forgot what it felt like.
I forgot that I deserved respect and time. I forgot that what I thought mattered, that it was okay to be part of conversation...it wouldn't be an inconvenience to anybody else. I forgot.
Little did I know my way of life was unhealthy. Little did I know that it was okay to take up space and show my opinions and feelings.
Little did I know acting like this would lead to depression for me. Little did I know.
My depression is comparable to a butterfly's time in their cocoon.
When it began I was numb, and an almost shadow of a person. I had low self-esteem and I didn't think I deserved much. And then I became hopeless. Sad to say the least. Desperate and scared. Feeling alone. Thriving in my own fear and misery. Confused and lost. I was floating through the scarred mist of an adolescent mind that had seen too much, experienced too much, and was completly and utterly lost. Add in my trust issues and I was screwed. Those who tried to talk or "help" me got pushed further away. I alienated myself when the only thing I wanted was for someone to embrace me and say that it would be ok. I had thoughts that scare me now. I was manipulating myself. Creating a mental war; me vs. me. There was no way out.
But slowly, gradually, I made my way out. I'm not sure how, but I got out. Dear god does it feel good to be able to say that. I got out.
And as I did so. Over time, I told myself that I deserved respect. I felt in my gut that I mattered. Somehow I knew that I deserved to take up space and live. How did I know? I'm not sure, but thank god I did.
But some people didn't like this. As much as they would be ashamed to admit it, it was easier for them when I was submissive, when I didn't take up space or raise opposition. Heck, it was easier for me.
