As She Authored *

just this once

June 21, 2017.
D

ear,
I cried. I cried yesterday, now... and probably I would cry tomorrow.

I cry; for I could feel the churning of my heart, the butterflies that flew down my stomach... the pain I feel; the tears that run down my face like a waterfall, a waterfall that does not stop until nature itself stops it.

They call me CRY BABY. Why? Because I cry for no reason, with the people surrounding my crying self not knowing that I was in fact having a mental breakdown.

They say that I am being petty, looking for attention that I don't even seek. People accusing me of something I dearly despise. I hate attention. I HATE being the center of attention.

I cry because crying makes you feel different things, makes you realize that reality is the opposite of fantasy. A different dimension we call life; because feeling something makes you realize that you still have the humanity that every normal people have! And having humanity makes you human, and being human... says that your alive.

I am depressed, I have anxiety, I have a lot of phobia that psychiatrist would fear me, that makes me feel psychopathic sometimes. And thus, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder that I was relived that it was not as bad as then.

To say I'm mentally ill is an understatement. Not only that but I'm emotionally drained too, when I want to feel a specific emotion?... I just couldn't find any results that would surely satisfy me.

I wanted to feel. I am very sensitive which tend to lead to a breakdown.  And since I'm stubborn and has a pride bigger than the moon and tge ego that I have, in which it only size like the fist of mine... I hold it back, just so no one would judge me, just so no one has to fake their kindness when they see a wet and flushed face. A fustrated and angry face that seemes to be there all the time, a frown that is permanently etched between my brows... a grim look that seems to be the favourite expression that my face always convey.

And the loneliness that my eyes wants to let loose, the water that just hang there wanting to be release from its jail. Craving for something. Hungry to be seen.

Nowadays, people just seem to be be lazy enough to not dig through the walls I built for over the 8 years that I cry. Lazy enough to not see the blankness of my soul.

Some wanted to be my hero, killing the demons that started to show once in a blue moon; not even knowing that by trying to kill that demon is like kill me unintentionally. Not knowing that all they have to do is understand me and soon the demons that hide beneath my mask would go away. Away...

I sometimes wake up with happiness oozing from beneath all this layers... and then be ruined with anxiety, the unnecessary over thinking and all this petty and stupid thoughts. Just stupid.

I wake up happy because of the new day God gave me, but still miserable because depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, and all my phobia are still intact, firm and clear. Never will it go away, and forever hunt me.

I'll be forever with my demons through and through until someone or even something comes to my rescue and...understands me.

Ivy Obtinalla,
-unicornz; The Author.

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