The Fear

Recently I feel myself slipping. I no longer care about most things and I’m scared that when I stop caring is the day I give up. I have stopped caring about my A levels because I have no idea what I want to do with my life. The stress of everyone rushing off; the stress of choosing university, the stress of everyone knowing their future but you having no idea.I have always said that the Day I Stop Fighting for myself is the day I die. So what will happen when I don’t care to fight anymore?

What I mean by fight is to try; try to gain equality, try to change minds, try to do well in school work, try to be friendly, try to be blunt and kind, try to be myself. When I stop trying to make my life better or my future better is when I think my mentality will slips. When I stop bothering with myself and trying to be the best I can be, I start to notice every flaw I own and never stop. I start hating myself and start fighting a different battle. So I try to focus on fighting for change and start trying again but it’s difficult to fight two battles

It’s like Nazi Germany fighting on two fronts eventually one will give way. I will either start hating myself or give up. I know how to live with one of them but if I lose on both sides, I don’t know. Hatred and no hope is a dangerous mix. It’s even worse when it’s all in your mind. It isolates you from the rest of the world; friends, family, work colleges. You smile to cover it up but everyone notices change, even if it seems small. Even then sometimes smiling doesn’t cover it up. I know people who when they went through their own hatred and had no hope in themselves turned to other methods of dealing with it which were more dramatic and left bigger battle scars both physical and mentally.

I have never self harmed. I have never missed a meal to look better in the mirror or threw up the family meal so I can deal with myself in the mirror. I have however ate to hide the pain. I have cried in front of a mirror. I have completely shut down and alienated myself from my friends. I have laughed when I wanted to cry. I have thought that the world would be better off without me. I have believed that I make no impact on other peoples life. I have bottled up my feelings that lead to an outburst. I have gone through stages where I can’t find one good thing about me. I have had times when my parents don’t understand. I have cried myself to sleep. I have seen myself as a monster. I have blamed myself for being bullied but I somehow survived.

Over this time I have built myself this industrial strength mask so that it doesn’t hurt when I am rejected or insulted. A mask to help me laugh it all of. A mask to help me through the day. My mask is beautiful to make me feel beautiful; my mask lets me be me, the me that never gets hurt. The mask to me is like a shield, hiding and protecting it’s holder. My mask hides and protects my weaknesses because I am weak if I show any emotion that isn’t passion or happiness. I don’t want to let people know I am weak. I want people to see me as a strong badass. The badass not as much but I want people to know my strength.

Eventually though someone says something and a crack appears on my mask and my weaknesses are hit. A tsunami of terror hits me. The little insult turns into this force that literally knocks me over and I am back into self loathing. All the climbing up the mountain of happiness, all the positive thoughts that took months to get too just disappear. I fall straight down the rabbit hole into some horrible nightmare, in which I cannot escape. It can take weeks, months to get back to the real world but after some time of falling and getting back up do you one day decide not to get up? One day do you finally give into your demons? Is there a point of no return?

I feel myself slipping back into this cycle again of falling and getting up and I am scared of the moment of no return. Will I stay alienated? Will I shatter mirrors? Will I inflict pain on myself? Will I eat until I burst? Will there be one less mouth to feed? That is my real fear.

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