Sometimes you wonder... Can I escape? Sometimes you wish you can. But you don't know if you ever will..
You tell your friends "Don't hurt yourself tonight." yet you don't mention the numerous scars covering your body. You say, "Suicide isn't the option." yet you don't mention the stash of sleeping pills under your bed. You pound into their head, "Recovery is possible. There is an end." yet you don't mention the months, no years, you've been trying to get better. You say, "Scales are for fish." yet you don't mention the morning you let the scale define you. You whisper, "I'm fine." yet you don't mention the blood gushing out of your body, tears streaming down your face, darkness engulfing you being.
You see posts on Pinterest like:
"It burns in the shower.
I'm sad,
because you know
exactly what
I'm talking
about"
And you sigh. People ask "You hate yourself? What do you mean?"
--
"I mean I hate every part of me. I hate the way my hair looks. I hate my thighs. I hate my stomach, I hate my mind. I hate every last part of me. It's like being trapped with the one person you hate with all your heart, the one you just find repulsive, absolutely, disgusting, and horribly ugly, forever. You know how sometimes you'll look in the mirror and even though you don't like yourself most days, you'll have a day where you can look in the mirror and go "Wow, I look good." and be confident? I never have those days. Ever. When I look in the mirror I see the ugliest thing ever. I see my every flaw, because flaws are what I'm made up of."
--
"Oh I just hate being a klutz." And you two laugh it off. Sometimes you just shut down and don't talk to anyone. Nothing personal.
--
And you feel lost...
In the sea of pills,
Forest of fake smiles,
Smalls streets of your mind,
and the house of your biggest fears.
--
Of those of you who are reading this (very few I know), don't you dare give up on this life. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not ever. Don't be so hard on yourself. But just breathe. That's all I ask. Breathe. Whether you're breathing heavily from a panic attack. Or sucking in breaths from crying. It's still better than no breaths at all. Please just breathe.
YOU ARE READING
Just a Mask.
Short StoryJust honest stories about how I felt. This is just a bunch of stories I wrote when I was in a bad place. You might see lines repeated. Probably 'cause I liked them a lot, hehe. I hope you enjoy. Please comment your thoughts and what not.
