Looking Up

Introduction

Introduction

I've felt the same way for as long as I can remember. Like the ground is crumbling beneath my feet; like I am totally losing my grip to reality.

They keep telling me that I need to stop looking down, and refusing to see the small, good things that come up in my life. I feel like now, the bad has overpowered the good completely. I'm drowning in the absence of happiness.

Ever since third grade, I haven't found it in myself to care. I haven't found it in myself to try to swim up from the deadly rip tides of life.

I keep digging for an explanation for why everybody feels the need to tear who I am apart, and now leave me with the shell of who I was.

I ask myself questions over and over each day to try to put together the broken pieces of a mismatched jigsaw puzzle. It isn't possible.

They tell me that I should keep looking up. I should be thankful that I am here. I keep responding the same old pathetic way, with saying that I'm dying on the inside. They say that dying is better than dead. I am already dead though.

I am a shriveled up flower that has lost its beauty. I am a leaf that no longer radiates energy of bright, green nature, but instead turning a crispy brown.

When I try to look up, all I see is the white sky on a stormy day. I can't help but feel the energy in the air that means a storm is approaching. I can't keep looking up.