Every time.

I hide. 

I push it all deep inside me, where no one can see it, not even I. 

It a ritual. 

I busy myself, I ran myself ragged in homework, work, volunteering. 

I blast music into my ears constantly to avoid other thoughts.

I keep my mind always occupied so I can postpone it.

I can postpone all the feelings of misery, of inability, of exhaustion, of depression. 

Because I can’t deal with it. 

I can’t handle it anymore. 

So I hide it deep inside me. All those feelings, all the darkness. 

I put a smile on my face, and school on my mind. I think of nothing else. 

I devoid myself of feeling, all I show is the smile everyone wants to see. So they can feel better about themselves. 

I lie until they are satisfied with my responses. 

I lie to satisfy myself as well. 

I do it, until I can’t. Until I fall apart and everything I was running from hits me. All the pain, tears, sorrow, misery and all the feelings of inadequacy all at once! And then the facade fades. 

And the cycle goes on. 

And on. 

Until this decrepit heart can learn to stop pumping misery in my veins.

Please stop. 

Stop asking me what I want to do in my life.

Stop asking me about dreams.

About my future. 

Because I don’t know. 

How do you ask someone to see their future when they don’t even see a tomorrow? 

I had dreams a long time ago. 

Dreams now that are untraceable.

Because no matter how much I want them I can’t have them. 

My grades aren’t good enough. 

I’m not good enough. 

So I don’t give an answer anymore. 

I don’t say anything. 

Because what am I supposed to say when it doesn’t happen? What justification can I give for being too stupid to reach my dreams? 

So I lied to myself that I didn’t have any. 

I willed myself to believe it and now I don’t. I can’t even say the words dreams out loud. 

They don’t exist, not in me at least. 

So don’t ask. 

Because I have no reply to give you that will satisfy you and not kill me. 

This life? 

I wonder if this is the road I’m supposed to take? 

Is the path that I’m supposed to walk on? 

Are these roads already made for me or am I making them? 

Why does it feel like others know which road to take and I’m just taking steps to move? 

What knowledge do they have that I don’t? 

Are my dreams waiting for me at the end of this path? Will I be happy when I get there? 

Am I going down this path because it’s where I want to be or because I have too far to turn back now? 

I don’t even know why I go to school to study, I don’t even know what I like anymore. 

Or what my dreams are? 

I just keep wondering is there an end to this road? Will I ever be able to reach it? Will it finally give me a sense of purpose or fulfillment?

On days like today 

I don’t sleep. Like always. 

I always sit on my bed and ask myself, “why haven’t I died yet?why didn’t I kill myself today?”  

Because honestly what is the point of living everyday just to hurt like this? 

But as I try to count out the reasons I realize I have none. 

Not one reason to stay. Not one person to hold on to. 

Not one love nor dream to make me want to live. 

So today too, I ask myself. 
But, I wonder will there be a night when I don’t need to ask that question ? 

Will I, one day maybe have the reasons to answer that question? 

Thoughts #3

You don’t realize how painful it is to hurt yourself. 
How much self-control you have to have, to keep cutting the same spot again and again. 
How much resilience it takes to keep going no matter how much it hurts. 
How bad it must be that hurting yourself could provide relief? 

Or maybe in the end it’s about having scars on the outside to match the ones you have inside. 
Maybe it’s about pointing to a physical pain and saying I’m hurting because of this. 
Finally having a reason and proof. 
Instead of living in question marks and ellipses.
Maybe this was just a cry for help, 

For people to notice how bad really is.

Maybe it’s all of it .