Garden of 100 Lies

Lie #9

"I'm not depressed."
We as humans, are all depressed in some way or another. Be it simply getting upset over missing a train or bus, or being so sad you want to end your life, as humans, we are all unequivocally depressed somehow someway. Take me for example, I'm depressed and I just want to die. I get up every morning, and I get dressed, and I do my hair, and I wash my face, and I brush my teeth, and I eat my breakfast. I put a smile on my face, and I eat my food; all the while thinking how disgusting and fat and worthless I am. Every time I eat, I can't help but think how disgusting and fat I am. I know that I'm probably not as ugly as I think I am, but after so many people telling you the same thing, and after so long of seeing what societies version of pretty is, you start to believe the lies yourself. But I put a bright smile on my face and keep it there. I smile at things that are supposed to be pretty, and I laugh at things that are supposed to be funny, but everything is just so meaningless. I could sit and listen to people talk, and have a smile on my face, and nod and respond with actual whole sentences, yet still I wouldn't have heard a single word they said. I keep denying the fact that I'm depressed. Telling myself that I'm only sad for a little while. Because even though I can laugh at funny things, and smile at pretty things, when I'm alone, there is something broken. And I can't help but to fall into a sadness so ravenous that it devours me. And I look in the mirror, and I hate what I see, but I still smile; because I don't want to be seen as an attention whore, I don't want to be called a faker, or be told that I'm fine when I'm not. And as the tears fall when I lie in the bed I seem to have made, I wish for death. And I get a strong nostalgia for something I never had. I shut myself down and lose all motivation for any and everything. I tell myself nobody cares, even though I know somebody does. I think of all the negative things that I possibly can and try to give myself all the pain I think I deserve. I'm not sure why I do it; perhaps because we accept the love an treatment we think we deserve, and I don't think I deserve love. I try and tell myself that I'm beautiful, that I'm worthy and that I shouldn't care what others think of me; but then I go to school and everything comes crashing down: the name calling, the bullying, the hopelessness, the loneliness, the nostalgia, the abuse, the hatred; it all just comes crashing down.
But still, I put my smile on, and I pretend that nothing matters. I pretend like nothing anybody says or does can hurt me. And I never break until I'm alone. I want love. I don't want to have to hold things back and pretend that nothing hurts me, I want a man to accept me for me. I don't want someone who doesn't want me completely. I don't want to just have sex, yeah fucking would be awesome, but not if that's all someone wants from me. I want someone who tries to figure out my mind and wants to see the beauty I see in the world. I can't have someone who only wants part of me, I need someone who remembers the little things I do or tell them; someone who thinks the world of me. I want to have all the things that I want to give someone else. I don't want you to give me a love that's subtle. If you're coming for me, come bare knuckled, with guns blazing. Come wipe the soot off my heart from being burned before. And come bravely, or not at all. Timidity bores me, and anything ordinary must be meant for someone else. Not me. I want love like lightning, and passion that's borderline violent. I'm not sure what makes people think I'll wait for anything that isn't everything? I'm not in this for safety and security, I want you to give me your knives, and cut me open, but please, cut me deeply; make my love for you rage like a tsunami. Some of us have become so calloused that our touch is too rough for anyone soft. My heart is black, my eyes are wide, I don't smile as much, but I'll always love too hard...Or not at all. But..... I guess for somebody like me.... that's asking far too much.
This is the nature of human life. We are nothing but pawns in this game we call life, and the only way to win, is to die; be it mentally or physically or emotionally, we all have to die in some way in order to have even the smallest headstart in this game we call life.