“Are you okay?” – Everyone.
“I’m fine.” – Me.
“No, I’m not fine at all. I’m mentally breaking down, I’m silently crying and calling for help inside but no one hears me or understands. No one gets it even if they try to. There’s no point telling you my stories that seemingly seem stupid to you. There’s no point telling you anything at all when all you hear are the things you want to hear and not the things I am telling you about. You don’t know how to help me. You don’t even try. You don’t feel it the way I do. You don’t see it the way I do. You don’t hurt the way I do. You don’t cry out the way I do. If you only know that I wake up everyday, wishing I could sleep in a little more for an escape. If you only know that the dreams I dream at night are one of the things that I hold on to because dreams are better than reality. If you only know that I stand in front of the mirror every day telling myself that it’s time to put on my face because makeup covers up the sleepless nights I have and the sadness and the tired look. If you only know I wake up in the middle of the night, trying to get back to sleep but the pain keeps haunting me. If you only know how much I don’t want to go through this alone but I think too much about you. I don’t want to be a dead weight.
But then again, you know nothing. I can tell you everything but at the end of the day, still nothing. Why do I even bother telling you that I’m not okay when anything I tell you will still stay with me. Lying seems easier. I can repeat the two words a million times and you would believe me, wouldn’t you? You wouldn’t question it. You wouldn’t say anything else. You’ll just ask that everyday because it seems like the most polite thing to do. What’s worse is that you can’t even tell. The hints are there but it’s the same as being direct. Nothing shakes you so I close an eye. Tell myself it’s okay to go through this alone. No matter how tough it is, I can try although there are days when I want to give up and just run far, far away. You make it seem so easy to do everything but it’s not in my case because you don’t know how much I think, and think about the possibilities, the consequences, other people’s feeling when in fact I shouldn’t think too much about it. There’s always 3 sides to things.
You say those who commit suicide are stupid and selfish. Why aren’t you stupid for not realizing the pain they were in? Why didn’t you see the signs? Why didn’t you stay with them, talk to them, be there for them, surprise them, let them know they have a friend in you? Why aren’t you selfish for only thinking about yourself when all they think is you and everything else? Where were you when they needed you? Gone, out there, having the time of your life while they hide in the darkest corners, watching everyone have fun. Of course, when you ask if they need you, they wouldn’t say it. Dead weight is the first thing that comes into their minds, my mind.
As much as I want all of these gone because it has stolen my life, it can’t evaporate into thin air. There’s no such thing as moving on because when it comes to the dark clouds, time is all I have to heal me. Nothing else. I may go on medication but what matters the most is time. People like us need as much time as possible to heal. I don’t know how long it’ll take but I’m hoping that it’ll be soon.I thought it was over few months back but I was wrong. It’s still there, recurring, bringing me back into the dark abyss of never-ending spirals. It makes me want to do things I shouldn’t. So yes, when you ask if I’m okay. I’m not, most of the time.”