One of the problem is that I tend to forget sadness when I am happy.
I look around for questions to ask myself:
am I really mentally ill or just overly dramatic?
Was all that really traumatic abuse, or did I just think of it that way?
When I am happy, I tend to say that it's not that bad after all
or that it's not all that bad after all,
and when I am consumed by sadness, I forget the times I was happy. I doubt if it really is real or if I'm just brainwashing myself.
I'm convinced that enjoyment only existed as a plead for help from depression.
The sadness glued in my brain keeps wishing for hope, and that's where "happy memories" come from.
As a 15-year-old, I am struggling to define happiness and sadness.
What exactly makes me delighted? And what makes me absolutely devastated?
Just like love, I struggle to define who I am,
what is what,
and when am I going to learn all those things-or where can I even find them at all?
YOU ARE READING
Dazed Off
Poetry𝑰 𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒎𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔, 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒐𝒄𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝒘𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒕; 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒍𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒚... 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕. A collection of poems...
