It started when she was fifteen. The constant worrying and self-doubt. She hated herself and everything in her life. Her life was a mess. Almost five years later and she sill felt like shit. She asked herself if things would get better everyday. Her mind would say yes, but her heart would say no.
The constant battle started to really hit on her nineteenth birthday. Parents wouldn't stop arguing; money and relationships was all they argued about. Coming close to a year of the struggle it's still about those things. Only, they're ten times worse.
Panic attacks started to hit. Taking her anger out on others, crying and shaking to the point of almost blacking out. She thought she had them under control, that is until one shook her to the point of no return. The tears wouldn't stop. She couldn't stop. She wanted it all to end. Everything she did or tried was never good enough. She had to get away.
After a week of disappearing, she thought things would go back to normal.
Ha, that didn't last for long.
Once something good happened, bad would sneak around the corner to ruin everything. The world didn't want to giver her a break.
The doctors and the medicine somewhat eased the pain, but she didn't enjoy it. She didn't like being on medication, although she did at the same time. She felt like her happiness was coming back one day at a time. She started to feel "normal" again.
She hated telling people about the medicine, it made her feel alienated. She shouldn't have to be on meds to be happy, but that's the way she had to be.
She tried to come to terms with what was wrong with her. She knew she wasn't "normal" nor would she ever be. She's her own person with her own story. Part of her didn't want to feel like an outcast. She wanted to be happy and in love. Her sickness was holding her back.
How could she love someone if she couldn't love herself?
How could she let a sickness ruin her?
How could she let things around her ruin what little happiness she had left?
How can she not be broken anymore?
