The Things I Never Told You

Ruined

Sometimes I can't help it. 

I can't help but be jealous of all the others. I can't help but feel the intense want for things I don't have - things I'll never have. I am so jealous. And it makes me hate myself even more all the time.

I can't help but cry. I can't help that there are so many little things that trigger my tears. It's not even the big things - someone could stand in front of me and say "I think you're depressed" and I probably wouldn't cry. But the small things hurt. Like little pieces of glass digging into me. I can't help it. I cry a lot anymore.

I can't help but pretend. I would be terrified if someone discovered what was actually going on with me right now. If I don't pretend, what would I do? I can't face the music. I can't.

I can't help but be afraid that I'll never recover. Be afraid that I can't get better, that I'll be this way for the rest of my life. Be afraid that I can't be something greater, like I want to be. That no matter how hard I try - and I am trying so hard - I can't be okay. Ever.

I can't help it. I'm ruined.