HER MIND

Yearning

Looking back, I realize how much I yearned for a sense of freedom and relief from the constant internal pain I endured. The carefree days of my teenage years were overshadowed by the darkness that surrounded the excitement and exploration I longed for seemed unrealistic. During my battle, I would always think of my loved ones. Seeing me the way I had already shattered me to pieces, imagine what it would do to them. The thought alone filled me with fear. I didn't want to add to their worries or cause them any more pain. Every morning, I hoped for a day to experience genuine happiness, free from everything that haunted my mind.

It was a deep desire, one that consumed my thoughts and mind. I watched others live their lives with a sense of ease and happiness. However, mine always felt suffocated. I always yearned to feel what teenagehood felt like because that feeling was deprived of me. The simple joy that others seemed to enjoy, felt out of reach for me, as if there was an invisible barrier preventing me from experiencing true joy. But above all, I craved freedom and a life without suffering.

The constant battle with my thoughts and emotions was exhausting, and I longed for a sense of peace and relief. I didn't want to spend every day in tears or cause harm to myself. The pain I felt was overwhelming, and there were times when I couldn't see a way out.

The thought of hurting myself was terrifying, yet it often felt like the only way to cope with the intensity of my emotions. I wanted to break free from this cycle of suffering and find a way to live a life filled with hope and happiness. I also struggled with my body image, mirrors were my worst enemy.

I loathed and resented the reflection I saw when looking at myself. Each time I looked at myself, I was reminded of the person I had become, a far person from the happy and carefree child I once was. The self-loathing was a constant presence, gnawing at my sense of self-worth and making it difficult to believe that things could ever get better. I wished I could look in the mirror and see someone I was proud of, someone who could face the world with confidence and strength. I felt the weight of my struggles and insecurities, bearing down on me, and I wished desperately for a way to escape the pain.

I wanted so badly to find a way to make things right, to bring back the happiness and light that had once been a part of my life. But in those moments, all I could feel was the crushing despair and the overwhelming need for relief. I knew that my family loved me and wanted the best for me, but the thought of burdening them with my pain was too much for me to take in. I wanted to protect them from the darkness that had taken hold of me, even if it meant hiding my true feelings. As I would sit in my room, clutching my chest, gasping for air, and couldn't help but hope that one day, I would find a way to break free from the anguish and live a life filled with joy and peace. I longed to wake up with a ray of hope, believing that today would be better. I dreamed of opening my eyes each morning with a sense of optimism, convinced that the day ahead held promise and possibility even though I knew deep down these were just lies to myself.

This hope was something I held on to, even during my hardest times. It provided a small glimmer of light in an otherwise challenging time. I desperately wanted to believe that change was possible, that I could break free from the cycle of despair and find joy in me being alive. I knew I needed help, but reaching out was a daunting task, especially when I had grown accustomed to portraying a facade rather than revealing my true self. The thought of admitting my struggles and vulnerabilities to others was terrifying. I had spent so much time and effort constructing a mask of normalcy, a shield to protect myself from people's views and judgment.

This facade was a carefully crafted illusion, designed to hide the turmoil within me and present a version of myself that seemed strong and in control. Letting that guard down felt like an impossible challenge. Fear was deeply rooted within me, fear of judgment and the prospect of being perceived in a different light. The idea of exposing my true feelings and struggles to others never sat right with me.

I worried that if people saw the real me, they would view me as this weak and crazy teenager. I feared that the people around me would view and treat me differently, that I would no longer be seen as the person they thought they knew even though that person might still be me. The fear of judgment was paralyzing, making it incredibly difficult to take the first step toward seeking help. The fear extended beyond just the judgment of others.

I was also afraid of confronting my own emotions and acknowledging the depth of my struggles. Admitting that I needed help meant facing the reality of my situation, and that was a prospect that terrified me. It felt safer to maintain the facade, to keep pretending that everything was okay, even though that was far from the truth. Reaching out for help required a level of vulnerability that I wasn't sure I could handle.

It meant opening up about the darkest parts of myself, parts that I had kept hidden for so long. I worried about how others would react, whether they would understand or dismiss my feelings. The weight of my heavy burden grew as I feared being rejected and misunderstood. Despite these fears, the longing for hope and change remained a constant presence. I knew deep down that I couldn't continue living with this facade forever. The desire to wake up with genuine hope, to believe that better days were possible, was a powerful motivator.