Is Happy Really, True?
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- Parts 1
Ongoing<5 mins
Last published Fri, May 18, 2018
I am happy, I am very happy,
Now, do you see how easy it is to say that line?
Happy? My happy is seeing my friends at the same store I am.
Happy is seeing myself get out of bed.
Happy is getting hungry,
Happy is keeping everyone else happy, Happy for me is not what it is for you.
Why?
Because I am not happy,
It is easier to just say I am,
It is easier to just say I am feeling a feeling that I am not,
To just get the screaming, pulling, and the painful question that echoes in my head over is easier than facing the real answer.
Why?
An old friend as old as my life, whose name is more underestimated than a woman in the military,
Anxiety holds me a hostage inside of my body,
inside of my head,
Now, that "friend" isn't really a friend of mine,
Anxiety is the cousin visiting from out of town that fear and loneliness felt just fine to invite to the party,
But I am the party, and trust me, I am a party I don't want to attend,
I try to make plans, I try to go to a real party,
But the fear of rejection makes me feel better to just stay home and sleep,
After all,
Rejection is the teacher that will get off my back,
The parent that demands I do as I am told,
My travel guide who demands to go the safest route to get home,
Rejection scares me, everything, scares me,
But I am strong, I have more strength then I let on,
I go through fear that tends leads me to thoughts that I cannot go down,
I cannot go with them because when I do,
Hurt joins my party,
Now ya see,
After those thoughts come and hurt has joined,
I lose my thoughts altogether,
Now hurt is the Know-it-all friend,
Hurt visits my family,
Telling them my mistakes,
Hurt finds my friends,
Leaving them to think about leaving me,
Hurt has a way of finding me,
Leaving me with nothing but a ruined home from a party that I didn't even want to have.
So when someone says that they are happy,
Look at how they act,
Because just happy,
Doesn't mean happy.
All Rights Reserved
#174
pleaselike
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[BWWM] I was only twelve years old when the world turned cold. The day my mom died in that car accident, I felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my heart. My dad, who had always been my hero, suddenly became a stranger, filled with rage and blame. He couldn't see that I was hurting, too; he only saw me as a reminder of his loss. The accusations cut deep. He said it was my fault for being there, for not doing something to save her. For being the reason she was in the car in the first place. In the years that followed, things only got worse. The abuse started gradually-a harsh word here, a shove there-but it escalated, leaving scars that I carried long after the physical pain faded. I was drowning in my own despair, struggling to keep my head above water while my father's anger raged like a storm around me. I only had a break from his anger when I started living with Aunt Dina-my mom's older sister. Well, that was because she found me nearly dead on my bed after I took a dozen pills. I was tired of living. I had hit rock bottom. The harsh whispers that followed me around and the stares at school. I pretended not to notice, like it didn't bother me. But it did. I was alone. Then came Athalia, a ray of sunshine cutting through my darkness. With her, I felt something I hadn't felt in years-happiness. She became my light through the darkness and my lifeline. ••••••••••• ● Warnings ⚠️ ~ Mention of suicide ~ Anxiety attacks ~ Rape attempt ~ Mention of self-harm ~ Depression
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