Life is What it is

Insecurities

Ever feel like no one cares about you? Like you feel useless and invisible? Your friends don't really seem much like your friends. They say the are, but at the end of the day they forget about you. And it's all because they found someone better.

No matter how many times they tell you that you matter to them. It'll never be true. They just don't want to deal with you being sad. When you are sad you can't do anything. After all, no one liked you. No one was there to comfort you. And yet, you're there for them. You help them even if you didn't know how to.

Get a small group of friends, they said. It's better than a large group, they said. But, the people you consider your friends are like strangers. Your small group of friend isn't a small clique squad. Everyone has their own and you just hop around. You're that friend who is just there because you don't want to be lonely. You're that friend who doesn't stay with one group. You're that friend who is always happy. The one who always smiles. But, you'll always feel lonely because you know they don't actually like you. You're just there to be there.

Why would they even like you? You're worthless. You're overweight and lazy. You brag a lot over something you're proud and they take it as rubbing it into their face. I get it. I am rubbing it in your face. I'm sorry. They would ignore me anyways.

I never had anyone compliment my work. My family never did it. Even if I showed them and said, "Look! My piece got entered into the art museum!" They'd nod their head. My friends would congratulate me in their most uninterested voice. Using their high pitch voice that literally screams , 'I don't actually care, but I don't want to make you sad' to say, "Oh my gosh! Great job!"

Maybe I should just stop talking. No one even wants me anyways. I sit with a couple of them at lunch, but I don't talk to them. Do I even belong here? I'd say something and I wouldn't get a reply. In person and online. I get left on read. Wow, I really am invisible. Maybe I can even go and change my grades if I'm that invisible. Kidding.

I'm invisible to everyone. The only way for people to notice me is if I play loud. I'd laugh loudly, and talk loudly, and sing loudly. I'll do the dumbest things just to get laughs out. Am I really do whatever I can for these high schoolers I may never see in my future? Eventually, loudness became apart of me and it's obnoxious to everyone. To me.

And then, everyone starts to murmur behind my back. They're scared of me. They hate me. They dislike me. I'm scary, I'm too loud, I'm too weird, dumb, hideous, fat, a show off, and so on.

Why won't anyone love me? Am I really that annoying? Am I really that bad? People are always telling me to be myself.

But, how can I be myself if everyone hates me?

No. Hate is too strong. They don't hate me for being alive. No, they don't. They just detest me. They dislike me. They just don't like my personality thats all. Chuckles.

No one would ever like someone like me. I'm a pester, troublesome, and dramatic. I need to grow up. I'm childish. No one liked me before so why would they start liking me now? Why do I have to change for society to accept me?

My own parents don't even like me. I'm a nauseous. I'm not the perfect daughter to them. I'm not skinny and I don't know how to cook. I don't clean twenty-four seven and I don't wear make-up everyday.

Why is everyone so cruel? Why can't you just accept me? Why force me back into the darkness? Why drive me back to the place that I've tried so hard to escape?

It's cold.
My vision has been eliminated.
The darkness is eating me up.
My body won't stop shaking and I feel like I'm being submerged with icy cold liquid.
It's slowly swallowing me up.
I try to warm my hands up with the chilly air of my breath but, it only creates icicles upon my hands.
I'm being pushed between two ice walls that feels like metal and it burns.
My skin is irritated.
The coldness is burning me.
Quickly, I try to reach out for the light.
To reach the warmth. To feel the touch of being wanted.
I try my hardest but, I'm so drain.
I can barley move my body because it feels like it'll break into shards.
Even so, I can see the small light but, it doesn't reach me.
But, I can see it.
I can see it create a distant as if it refuses to let me touch it.
It's running away from me as if I was a disease.
I can see who the light has choose to set free.
And it wasn't me.

No one wants me. Not even the light.

I'm just not good enough.