*
This is the story. The real one, not the one that they made up.
I grew up not knowing. I didn't know anything and I was okay with that. All I did was do well in school because that seemed like the right thing to do, not for any other reason. At the times of grade school and junior high, it wasn't a "determination" or "drive" that got me good grades. I didn't try and I was lucky. I had a natural talent for everything I learned and school required no effort whatsoever. The grades kept my parents off my back, and besides- they were busy with other things.
In high school, the academic curriculum stepped up a notch and I was suddenly required to put forth some type of effort in order to keep up my grades. I didn't have that inner drive or determination that was needed, so my grades steadily dropped. My parents were no longer happy with me and I felt totally lost. I didn't know what to do.
I couldn't try because I didn't want to. I didn't have the means because I didn't care.
Throughout this period of my life, my self esteem was nonexistent. I wasn't pretty , wasn't smart, wasn't anything. That was how I felt, anyway. But strangely, others didn't seem to agree. I developed ways to get boys to like me. I had the ability to make them so interested that they couldn't sleep at night. It all rose my self esteem: them liking me, telling me all the things I needed to hear to feel better. It was like a drug; every time my self esteem was dangerously low, I needed to get my fix. I was so completely unhappy, but I was oblivious to it because I really didn't know any better and I thought that this might be the only way to get by. My unhappiness was tucked away somewhere deep in my subconscious and I couldn't feel it, not ever.
Then something happened and I finally started to feel better. I had a great boyfriend and great grades. I thought that I had started living, for real. And pretty much, I was. That feeling of being an empty vessel was finally gone.
But after a while, something inside of me started to change. It was something about me and my parents and school and everything else. It was closing me in, pressing their hands against my throat. It made the mere act of living painful. The feeling was coming back, but it had changed, morphed into something so bad that I didn't think I could compete with it. But I tried fighting it anyway. I fought with all my might. I pushed it down continually, thinking that I'd soon be okay. I HAD TO BE OKAY. I HAVE TO BE OKAY NOW. After all, I have so much to live for. I can't screw this up. I can't screw this up. I HAVE TO BE OKAY.
But soon this one feeling got so big and so bad that I couldn't hold it down anymore and I began to feel it's full force.
This one day, among others, that I tried to make my mother understand , that's when it all boiled over. That's when I lost everything. That's when I lost myself.
I wanted so bad for all of them to understand. That feeling of understanding would have meant the world to me. My unrelenting pursuit of this understanding that I speak of led me deeper and deeper into the dark. I realize that now.
I kept telling myself that later in our lives, they'd regret all of this, but deep down in the darkest corner of my mind, I knew that they would not.
Presently, all I can do is wait and wish someone would wrap me inside their arms and gives me their warmth and their strength and tell me that I am not dead. All I can do is wait and wish for someone to take me away from here and give me my life back.
I felt such a horrible sadness then. I felt the lowest form of my existence. It was so bad and I didn't even know where it was coming from.
I don't want to hurt anyone I don't want to hurt anyone I don't want to hurt anyone.
But I don't want to be alone in this.
I don't want to be alone.
But I don't want to hurt anyone anymore.
I'm not sure if any of this is real. What I mean is, I don't know if this is how I really feel about my life. I'm not sure if I ever make any point to anything. I'm not sure if any of this really even means anything. I'm sure it means nothing.
I actually am wondering if it's true. I guess I'm just not a good person, and fucked up like everyone else.
It just really sucks that I keep telling them and they keep turning away and pretending it's all a dream. What if their dream turns to reality? What then?
I love you I love you I love you but I don't want to hurt you.
EDIT I'm starting to realize that I might be just another person who's living a fucked up life. I'm the person that people feel sorry for.
AND I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE FUCKING DOING THIS TO ME.
YOU
WERE
THE
LAST
PERSON
I
THOUGHT
WOULD
EVER
LEAVE
ME
FEELING
ALONE/ABANDONED/FORGOTTEN/UNWANTED
I grew up not knowing. I didn't know anything and I was okay with that. All I did was do well in school because that seemed like the right thing to do, not for any other reason. At the times of grade school and junior high, it wasn't a "determination" or "drive" that got me good grades. I didn't try and I was lucky. I had a natural talent for everything I learned and school required no effort whatsoever. The grades kept my parents off my back, and besides- they were busy with other things.
In high school, the academic curriculum stepped up a notch and I was suddenly required to put forth some type of effort in order to keep up my grades. I didn't have that inner drive or determination that was needed, so my grades steadily dropped. My parents were no longer happy with me and I felt totally lost. I didn't know what to do.
I couldn't try because I didn't want to. I didn't have the means because I didn't care.
Throughout this period of my life, my self esteem was nonexistent. I wasn't pretty , wasn't smart, wasn't anything. That was how I felt, anyway. But strangely, others didn't seem to agree. I developed ways to get boys to like me. I had the ability to make them so interested that they couldn't sleep at night. It all rose my self esteem: them liking me, telling me all the things I needed to hear to feel better. It was like a drug; every time my self esteem was dangerously low, I needed to get my fix. I was so completely unhappy, but I was oblivious to it because I really didn't know any better and I thought that this might be the only way to get by. My unhappiness was tucked away somewhere deep in my subconscious and I couldn't feel it, not ever.
Then something happened and I finally started to feel better. I had a great boyfriend and great grades. I thought that I had started living, for real. And pretty much, I was. That feeling of being an empty vessel was finally gone.
But after a while, something inside of me started to change. It was something about me and my parents and school and everything else. It was closing me in, pressing their hands against my throat. It made the mere act of living painful. The feeling was coming back, but it had changed, morphed into something so bad that I didn't think I could compete with it. But I tried fighting it anyway. I fought with all my might. I pushed it down continually, thinking that I'd soon be okay. I HAD TO BE OKAY. I HAVE TO BE OKAY NOW. After all, I have so much to live for. I can't screw this up. I can't screw this up. I HAVE TO BE OKAY.
But soon this one feeling got so big and so bad that I couldn't hold it down anymore and I began to feel it's full force.
This one day, among others, that I tried to make my mother understand , that's when it all boiled over. That's when I lost everything. That's when I lost myself.
I wanted so bad for all of them to understand. That feeling of understanding would have meant the world to me. My unrelenting pursuit of this understanding that I speak of led me deeper and deeper into the dark. I realize that now.
I kept telling myself that later in our lives, they'd regret all of this, but deep down in the darkest corner of my mind, I knew that they would not.
Presently, all I can do is wait and wish someone would wrap me inside their arms and gives me their warmth and their strength and tell me that I am not dead. All I can do is wait and wish for someone to take me away from here and give me my life back.
I felt such a horrible sadness then. I felt the lowest form of my existence. It was so bad and I didn't even know where it was coming from.
I don't want to hurt anyone I don't want to hurt anyone I don't want to hurt anyone.
But I don't want to be alone in this.
I don't want to be alone.
But I don't want to hurt anyone anymore.
I'm not sure if any of this is real. What I mean is, I don't know if this is how I really feel about my life. I'm not sure if I ever make any point to anything. I'm not sure if any of this really even means anything. I'm sure it means nothing.
I actually am wondering if it's true. I guess I'm just not a good person, and fucked up like everyone else.
It just really sucks that I keep telling them and they keep turning away and pretending it's all a dream. What if their dream turns to reality? What then?
I love you I love you I love you but I don't want to hurt you.
EDIT I'm starting to realize that I might be just another person who's living a fucked up life. I'm the person that people feel sorry for.
AND I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE FUCKING DOING THIS TO ME.
YOU
WERE
THE
LAST
PERSON
I
THOUGHT
WOULD
EVER
LEAVE
ME
FEELING
ALONE/ABANDONED/FORGOTTEN/UNWANTED