Fear.
Blood pulsing through your veins.
You tell yourself to breathe but you can't.
You turn your back on your problems because you know they only way to face them is to turn around.
So you don't.
And eventually it catches up to you.
It carries you along like a tsunami of bad thoughts and disappointment.
You feel empty and you run still, not even having any sense of direction.
You pull up Spotify on your phone and put on your favorite playlist in hopes that it will help you.
But the music only makes it worse.
It amplifies the buzzing in your head and the loudness and everything else that feels like it's going at light-speed.
And you're frozen.
You are paralysed with regret knowing, believing, that you are nothing more than a jumble of disorders.
You don't think you're pretty or beautiful because the people who said it didn't mean it.
And the people who didn't only made you more alone.
You learn how to bear a grin, to smile, because if you didn't then you know what people would say.
Because they only care when you're crying.
They only care when they see the blood and pain seeping out from the cracks left in your heart and your soul from the last time you were broken.
And it stings worse than a slap in the face.
You feel as if your veins are about to explode and your heart beat speeds up too quickly in a matter of seconds.
You back down, you are unheard.
You are afraid to do things because all your problems started in the past.
And the past wasn't a very great place.
You can't approach anybody.
You can't pretend.
You say that you're okay and everybody stops asking and moves on just like they're supposed to because you don't want anybody to worry.
And whilst everybody else is having a happy time, you can barely make out the people whispering.
"Why is she shaking?"
"Are you on drugs?"
"What the hell is wrong with her?"
And so you smile and laugh along and pretend it's all just a game.
Nobody notices anything anymore because you hid it too well.
You've got prepared answers and lines that will make people think it's alright.
But people are so easy to trick.
They focus on everything else and eventually they basically tell you that you need help or you should just get over it.
Okay, sure.
Nobody knows your true pain and that's why you seek help.
So forget your friends, forget the people who aren't doing anything to help you.
You're fucking insane.
So get help.
Because otherwise everybody else is going to ignore everything and you will die.
And death is painful.
