The Battle With Myself

I was born and raised in Palatka, Florida. I was raised by a  backwoods- country sort of family.

When I was younger, about 10 or 11, I was really laid back, a

chill type of person in a word. I had a couple of friends, and when you're that age - that's all you really need.

But as I got older- they drifted away and left me for other cliques.

Around 6th grade is when I started to notice things changing.

Groups forming and friends leaving one another - and it seemed as if I were in the middle not being able to choose where I wanted to be - or where I needed to be - or even where others thaught I should be.

I started to overhear people judging one another and almost instantly became insecure.

About everything- My clothes, my hair. Everything.

I felt like everybody was staring at me.(Although looking back, barely any one had noticed I was even there) I felt like I didn't belong.

Everywhere I went.

The school I went to is mainly made up of city kids and only a few kids acted like me - relaxed -care free kids they didn't really care about drama, or who dated who, or any of that stuff. But low and behold, being the minority had a sick, twisted way of excluding and segregating kids my age.

So, I did what I had to do.

I changed. Everything.

I grew my hair out, I started wearing skinny jeans, and Aeropostale shirts ( which at that time with very in style), I even tried to hide the southern twist in my voice , which I have had ever since I could even talk.

I instantly noticed a big difference, people started talking to me, I made a lot of friends and it was different. I really liked it at first, the feeling of being included.

But then, once that feeling wore off- I felt empty.

I had at least thirty people I could talk to comfortably and I was always around them but I still felt alone.

Vulnerable.

I've never felt like this and it confused me.

I needed help , but couldn't bring myself to ask anyone. It didn't get better, I found myself curled up on my bed crying and wishing that someone would just kill me right then and there. Just rid me of my pain. Yet day after day I would dry my face- and walk out with a smile. I didn't do this for me, I did it for my family, my little brother especially. I remember the first day when he caught me in one of my attacks,  or whatever you would call it.

His little face filled with confusion and I cracked.

I grabbed him and with tears flowing down my face,  I promised him that this was the last time I would do this and I kept that promise for a good solid 3 weeks. Then I broke ( depression has always had a way of making me feel I was almost out-  but then violently snatching me back in) I looked at myself in the mirror and hated everything I saw, not just physically. Everything. I hated- or even more so detested what I was looking at . It wasn't me but in the same sentence, it was. My dark, blue eyes had lost thier shine and faded into a deplorable shade of grey, and my expression was is dull and as dead-pan as  I've ever seen myself. The word is dead. I looked dead. Felt dead. Yearned for the reality that I was, but I wasn't. I used to be a willing and content, generally happy kid who had inspiration and honesty in his heart.

Now the only thing that lives in the depths of my soul is the memory of who I once was and the darkness of no longer being able to sustain the innocence I once posessed.

I was letting go.

I had tried too long and I wasn't winning this battle with myself.

All hope was gone and I didn't see the purpose of trying,

no one knew and I couldn't let them know, it was too much of a burden to put on some one that I loved.

I had to put on a smile - and face the day like any other day.

Only to be reminded that tomorrow would only be worse. Which absolutely murdered my will to get up and even try.

"Goodbye for now " I said,  my voice cracking trying to mask the pain. I stared just a couple more seconds. I shattered the eye contact between me and my sinister, worthless reflection.

I half smiled, more of a smirk than anything, then I spun around and walked out of my room.

The everlasting endeavor was put on hold for the sake of others, for just one more day.