Pouring Out My Heart

Part 1

Okay. I am tired of holding this in. I've been wanting to say this but I've been scared to tell anyone or write it down, scared that someone might find it and force me to tell them what it is. Even though I would refuse. Whoever found it would eventually force me to tell them. Then the aftermath is something I just wouldn't want to say for now because I don't know what individual people would do. I might as well stop babbling and actually tell you.

I am depressed. I haven't been diagnosed with depression but it feels just like it. I am paranoid. I'm not diagnosed with paranoia, but I always over analyze things until they turn into something that fears me. I do self diagnose myself, but I don't take medication. Actually I kinda do. It's music. Music is my medication, but it's also a drug. I don't tell many people these things because then they would thing I was a freak and then verbally abuse me or they would give a look of pity and try and help. They just don't understand that they can't help. Therapy won't help. It's just makes it worse. They ask us questions. And they expect us to be comfortable answering them. If we say we don't want to answer them, then eventually the answer will be forced out of us.

They say that they'd help. I said I didn't want it. I didn't need their help. I had my own help. It came from people who went through what I'm going through and music. That wonderful thing. It pours out our hearts for us. So we don't have to say the words ourselves. But for this. I can't hide behind a song. I need to say this in my own words so I can stay me. I can stay beautiful but keep it ugly. I can have bulletproof love and still have someone shoot it. There is one thing I don't like though. When someone tries to force their company on me. If I say is rather be alone that means alone without you. Only a few people can overthrow this rule. And you may know who you are. I hope you are proud to know that.

Although for kids like me there are benefits for being like us. We can't be shoved in the boxes that society is made up of. We do it now and remember it later. We don't care if the cops chase us and we have to duck into alleyways to hide from them. We don't care if we get sick while we're kissing in the rain. We have a special freedom that we earned. Even though the freedom sounds great, there's a price. With that freedom comes the haunting. The haunting of everything you regret in your life. The voices remanding you of your flaws every moment that you can. Even in the silence there is noise. Telling us that we're stupid, pathetic, cowardly, even more reasons why we should kill ourselves. We get dark. We feel numb all the time. We get stuck in a one track mind like goldfish stuck in a Petri dish. Hoping this is worth our time. Being alive. Is it worth the sacrifice?

I got no time for self pity. It's not worth my time and I honestly have better things I could be doing. We dress differently than you and we act differently than you. Just because we don't fit your standards does that mean that you are aloud to break my mind? Do you want us to have to live our deepest fears just for your enjoyment? To me that sounds cruel and awful. Just because we are different do you have the right to break our hearts until we fall apart? We are already shattered and broken. Do you want us to die in the flames of our suffering? Do you want us to die because of your actions?

We wear masks to hide ourselves, to hide our true emotions. I want you to know that with some people, the bigger the smile the worse off they are. There are two types of pain that people feel. The pain that hurts, like stunning your toe, and the pain that changes you, when you loose someone you truly loves. For those who have felt both I want you to know that you aren't alone. We may be killjoys but we can certainly make some noise though. We are children of the night. We run free gardens of shadows with our music playing way too loud to know. We never know when we will die so we try to live our lives to the fullest so when we die we won't have anything else to want. We want to die happy people. Although it may not seem like it.

Well that's all I want to say now. If there is more I'll write it down because I dint want to reveal too much in just one setting. It may be too much. You know what? Never mind. I'm going to tell you anyway.

Although there is one thing that you need to know. Well you don't need to know but I'm going to tell you. I used to self harm. I used to use my nails to create pictures on my wrist that would eventually bleed. I would listen to sad and numbing songs so the pain wouldn't be as noticeable. Even though the pain isn't as noticeable that making the scars more prominent and I have to wear longer sleeves to hide them. It's been a while but there have been people who have made the urge grow. I find myself subconsciously sliding my nails down my arms and running them down my legs. I would express my opinion but all they would is make the names worse.

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Written 2016