I'm currently crying for a reason unknown to me. I do this all the time and normally I write about it in my journal but I finally wanted to put something out there, you know?
So two of my friends recently lost a loved one and I was -still am - really sad for them. But when I found out I thought that maybe there was something wrong with me. Maybe I was insensitive because I just couldn't comfort them. I couldn't be sympathetic, hell I couldn't even say a simple "I'm sorry." Or "Get better." I just stood there.
I feel so bad now because I could never imagine what they're going through. But I have my fair share of problems. But the point of this isn't that.
I've come to realize that I am sort of a vacuum for pain. I hate when others get hurt so I try as much as I can to hold that pain for them. Thats the only comfort I can give, is to be some sort of table that someone dumps their pain on. I carry it with me and I end up feeling terrible afterward.
It gets to me because its kind of like I'm not being myself. I'm using other peoples pain to cover mine. And when I'm alone, lost in my thoughts, everything I've kept inside comes out. I'm always silent about it but inside I'm screaming at myself to stop. To stop being so weak. But I can't because its just who I am. I'm sensitive and people tell me its okay when I just feel like it isn't.
I will tell myself that I'm okay and put my insecurities and doubts aside but as soon as I look in the mirror I fall apart all over again. I've been carrying everyones pain for so long that I have completely forgoten about my own.
Its slowly eating away at me and I sometimes think that I should just give up. But then I think of all the possibilities and "what ifs".
I'm terrified of telling my family about it too because they won't do anything about it. I walk around like someone thats happy, I put a smile on my face. But how long will it last? How long will it last until they realize that I'm slowly dying on the inside.
I feel like everyday I keep it a secret I sink deeper into this bottomless pit. I feel like I'm drowning in depression. I wake up in the middle of the night filled with anxiety because I overthink and overthink about the worst.
But nobody knows. Nobody knows because I act like everything is okay. Because I'm a coward who is too afraid of what others might think of me.
I wish I could get help. I truly do. But every time I grow the courage to ask, I imagine myself falling into that imaginary pit and all that confidence goes away. And all thats left is me, a teenage girl who is slowly deteriorating. Slowly dying.