Ladies and Gentlemen of the Void,
I have a petition to put to you all: please, PLEASE, be real. Be who you are. It saves time, energy, and heartache.
That is all.
Wednesday, December 17, 2014
Saturday, December 6, 2014
Stand Up and Stop It
As I was checking Facebook this morning, I came across an article that disturbed me greatly. A 12 year old boy in California took his own life because he was bullied for being the only male cheer leader on the squad. He was taunted about being gay and I'm sure a host of other horrific things until he was taken out of the local Jr High and was home schooled. This apparently didn't fix the problem and he still felt that his only option was to take his life. A link to the story can be found here: Story.
It is things like this that make me want to shake the world and wake it up to the reality of suffering. There are people who wake up every day and cry because they have to face the world again. Activities once loved become uninteresting or a burden or, in as in this boys case, the source of his pain.
Lets look at that point for just a second: he loved cheer leading, and yet it was for that same thing that he was being teased. I don't know this boy, his personality, or anything about him; that being said, I can guess that he was experiencing some intense cognitive dissonance. Cognitive Dissonance, according to dictionary.com, is a "psychological conflict resulting from simultaneously held incongruous beliefs and attitudes (as a fondness for smoking and a belief that it is harmful)." It is likely that he both loved and hated cheering - which is an absolute tragedy because a 12 year old boy should be allowed to do whatever he is passionate about without the fear of being bullied.
Bullying is never OK. Never. Stand up and stop bullying.
It is things like this that make me want to shake the world and wake it up to the reality of suffering. There are people who wake up every day and cry because they have to face the world again. Activities once loved become uninteresting or a burden or, in as in this boys case, the source of his pain.
Lets look at that point for just a second: he loved cheer leading, and yet it was for that same thing that he was being teased. I don't know this boy, his personality, or anything about him; that being said, I can guess that he was experiencing some intense cognitive dissonance. Cognitive Dissonance, according to dictionary.com, is a "psychological conflict resulting from simultaneously held incongruous beliefs and attitudes (as a fondness for smoking and a belief that it is harmful)." It is likely that he both loved and hated cheering - which is an absolute tragedy because a 12 year old boy should be allowed to do whatever he is passionate about without the fear of being bullied.
Bullying is never OK. Never. Stand up and stop bullying.
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
A Follow Up
Ladies and Gentlemen of the Void,
Today, I feel vindicated. My last post was about depression and how society views it. Today, as I wandered the internet, I found this and I was ecstatic. Its a page on The Huffington Post and it is wonderful. I know that I in no way had anything to do with this posting... It may just be happenstance. But, if nothing else, it continues to and adds more to the conversation that this world desperately needs regarding infirmities of the heart, mind, and soul. Follow this link for the post: Huffington Post. Enjoy.
Today, I feel vindicated. My last post was about depression and how society views it. Today, as I wandered the internet, I found this and I was ecstatic. Its a page on The Huffington Post and it is wonderful. I know that I in no way had anything to do with this posting... It may just be happenstance. But, if nothing else, it continues to and adds more to the conversation that this world desperately needs regarding infirmities of the heart, mind, and soul. Follow this link for the post: Huffington Post. Enjoy.
Saturday, November 8, 2014
Depression: the Internal Bully
Ladies and Gentlemen of the void:
Recently, I've heard that all it takes to help stop bullying and/or one of the most effective tools to help combat it is for one other person to stand up to the bully. Just ONE other person. This is hard to do when the bully is in the mirror. Depression, self doubt, and other similar thought patterns are, in a way, self bullying. We who live with depression are living with an internal rather than an external bully. So, when people around us are harsh in response to our state, worse when they are silent when the topic comes up, or - worst of all - if they just seem to go away, it leaves us alone with our tormentor; a tormentor that is rather vocal that we are not just alone, but that we have been left alone, a whole different sad, scary, and quite frankly destructive matter entirely.
Let me describe what depression feels like for me. May the reader please note that this isn't a comprehensive description - depression affects everyone differently and it may be different for others who have depression as their daily companion. Please note also that I have only had experience with and will therefore keep my thoughts focused on depression.
Describing depression can be difficult. Much like describing the taste of salt is nearly impossible without using the word 'salty,' it is difficult to describe depression without using the word 'depressed.' Perhaps a good place to start is by breaking down the word: de - down, press - to act upon with steadily applied weight or force. We can therefore describe depression as the steadily applied weight or force downward. For other definitions of the word 'press', please follow this link: Press. The different definitions add great meaning and insight to the discussion.
Keeping that constant pressure downward in mind, please imagine a world where the colors are less bright and the sounds are less pure. There is a gray haze that has settled in and grasped tightly everything you see. It's color seeps into everything it touches and stains it. It muffles sound. It darkens the sun. It chokes as you breath it in. The polluted air is thick and cold, which makes it hard and a little painful to move. The world becomes a dark, colorless, lifeless waste. For a definition of the word 'waste', please follow this link: Waste. The different definitions add great meaning and insight to the discussion.
Other people look happy and fulfilled by their lives. They survey you with either uninterested or sneering expressions as they hurry past and, seeing their quick movement, you are extremely aware that you are clumsy and slow. Those close to you look concerned, but feel distant and powerless - driving a feeling of hopelessness deeper into your heart. Hopelessness that adds more weight dragging you lower.
You tire quickly.
You don't sleep well.
Tasks - even small ones - feel huge and impossible.
You feel weak.
Powerless.
Hopeless.
Alone.
There is one thing that stands above all others as perhaps the worst part of this shadowy mess. The worst part is the maddening whispers that come from the haze. The haze has a voice of its own, but masterfully makes you believe that what its telling you comes from what other people are thinking about you. All day it whispers all of your doubts, fears, and insecurities into your ear, slipping in an extra few ounces of weight with ever word. Then, once its been around long enough, the voice starts sounding like your own. You then begin to hear - in your own voice - messages like:
"You're not good enough,"
"you're ugly,"
"you can't,"
"no one likes you,"
"it's hopeless,"
"you're worthless,"
"stupid,"
"fat,"
"a waste of space,"
"weak,"
And, once it has you believing all the things it says about you, it starts giving you directions:
"Give up,"
"Why try?"
"Stop trying,"
And then the really scary stuff starts when you start hearing, "It would be better if you just went away" and other messages in your spoken to you in your own voice. By this point, you're convinced nothing is going to get better because, once we become accustomed to any one particular thing, it is hard to imagine a life without it.
You feel as if you have fallen down into a dark and deep hole. Your arms and legs ache from kicking and pounding against walls searching for a way to climb out. Your hands are raw and bloody from scratching the rock wall. Your breath is gone and your heart pounds as you realize that you're not going to be able to climb out of this hole. So, you lean up against the cold and rocky wall, slowly slide down until you're sitting on the jagged floor, put your head to your knees, wrap you arms around your legs, and hope it doesn't take too long to die.
You wish you could just disappear.
Vanish.
Not feel.
... And then the alarm goes off... And you have to do it all over again.
All day every day.
With this as a back drop, dose it make sense why having a social stigma against struggling and having problems would be so detrimental to those who live in such a place? It is a (perceived) confirmation to everything we believe about ourselves. Every doubt, every insecurity, and every ounce of weight is doubled when we feel like what we're going through is sub-human and unnatural. So, may I offer a bit of advice? As we struggle with ourselves and as we learn to manage what is going on around us, just be there. You don't need to be the manic cheerleaders on the sidelines or even the best coach in the world as you rip phone-books in half. You just need to be present. Give the option of open and warm communication and please don't get offended if we don't take it. When people are hurt, they say and do things they don't really mean. We are hurting.
Please, don't tell us to be happy. Don't tell us to stop being silly. Don't tell us it's going to get better. Don't tell us that we just need to stop thinking about it or that we just need to, "snap out of it." Those things are not helpful and, more often than not, give more power to the bully. Why? Because in saying those things, you have joined your voice with the internal bully's in shouting the messages that we are not enough and are stupid for feeling the way that we feel. The very messages we tell ourselves every day of our lives. But, whatever you do, please don't be silent! Don't let us feel forgotten. Don't let us feel we have become too much to bear and you've cut us off. If nothing else, just be there. Be as patient and as kind as you can because we - at least I - am not offering either of those things to ourselves.
Depression is a real and a frightening demon. Self doubt is a monster that swallows everything it sees. Both of these have many friends they bring with them in varying degrees. I know that this blog post isn't going to change the world. It may do absolutely nothing. I do hope that it will at least be some sort of added voice for a change in our attitude toward those who struggle. With depression, kindness is the best medicine. Kindness, paired with genuine love, will do more to help combat depression than any other tool.
Open your hearts. Reach down your hands. Let us know you're there. We need you.
I'm tired. I'm tired in so many ways that it hurts. I'm tired of school. I'm tired of dating. I'm tired of work. I'm tired of saying that I'm happy and putting on a show so that I don't alarm the masses. I'm just tired. I try so hard to be perfect and keep up the appearance of being OK because that is what is socially acceptable. When someone on the street - and more and more alarmingly between friends - asks, "How are you?" if the answer isn't, "I'm fine, thanks, how're you?" people start freaking out. The idea behind this seems to be, "Keep your problems to yourself. Your problems are your problem, please don't bother me with them." Consequentially, we have lost the ability to have a bad day (or even several in a row) and have it be normal. We have become broken hearts hiding behind perfect faces. This fact has made me ask a couple of questions: Why do we as a society look down on those who are struggling? And, perhaps even more of what I would like to say: Why are we so silent about disorders and diseases of the mind, heart, and soul?
Depression and similar conditions are scary, not only for those who suffer with them, but for those who watch them suffer. I understand that such thought patterns and (using the word carefully) disorders are temporary and curable. I am here to tell you that, even though we sometimes understand this, it doesn't feel that way. The crushing weight of depression, the shackles of self doubt, and the impenetrable fortress of "getting better" are realities. If you've ever struggled with depression, you understand how foreign the idea of getting better is. It seems that we will feel this way forever and that we will be trapped in our own personal hell for eternity.
Depression and similar conditions are scary, not only for those who suffer with them, but for those who watch them suffer. I understand that such thought patterns and (using the word carefully) disorders are temporary and curable. I am here to tell you that, even though we sometimes understand this, it doesn't feel that way. The crushing weight of depression, the shackles of self doubt, and the impenetrable fortress of "getting better" are realities. If you've ever struggled with depression, you understand how foreign the idea of getting better is. It seems that we will feel this way forever and that we will be trapped in our own personal hell for eternity.
Recently, I've heard that all it takes to help stop bullying and/or one of the most effective tools to help combat it is for one other person to stand up to the bully. Just ONE other person. This is hard to do when the bully is in the mirror. Depression, self doubt, and other similar thought patterns are, in a way, self bullying. We who live with depression are living with an internal rather than an external bully. So, when people around us are harsh in response to our state, worse when they are silent when the topic comes up, or - worst of all - if they just seem to go away, it leaves us alone with our tormentor; a tormentor that is rather vocal that we are not just alone, but that we have been left alone, a whole different sad, scary, and quite frankly destructive matter entirely.
Let me describe what depression feels like for me. May the reader please note that this isn't a comprehensive description - depression affects everyone differently and it may be different for others who have depression as their daily companion. Please note also that I have only had experience with and will therefore keep my thoughts focused on depression.
Describing depression can be difficult. Much like describing the taste of salt is nearly impossible without using the word 'salty,' it is difficult to describe depression without using the word 'depressed.' Perhaps a good place to start is by breaking down the word: de - down, press - to act upon with steadily applied weight or force. We can therefore describe depression as the steadily applied weight or force downward. For other definitions of the word 'press', please follow this link: Press. The different definitions add great meaning and insight to the discussion.
Keeping that constant pressure downward in mind, please imagine a world where the colors are less bright and the sounds are less pure. There is a gray haze that has settled in and grasped tightly everything you see. It's color seeps into everything it touches and stains it. It muffles sound. It darkens the sun. It chokes as you breath it in. The polluted air is thick and cold, which makes it hard and a little painful to move. The world becomes a dark, colorless, lifeless waste. For a definition of the word 'waste', please follow this link: Waste. The different definitions add great meaning and insight to the discussion.
 |
| Photo via Google |
Other people look happy and fulfilled by their lives. They survey you with either uninterested or sneering expressions as they hurry past and, seeing their quick movement, you are extremely aware that you are clumsy and slow. Those close to you look concerned, but feel distant and powerless - driving a feeling of hopelessness deeper into your heart. Hopelessness that adds more weight dragging you lower.
You tire quickly.
You don't sleep well.
Tasks - even small ones - feel huge and impossible.
You feel weak.
Powerless.
Hopeless.
Alone.
There is one thing that stands above all others as perhaps the worst part of this shadowy mess. The worst part is the maddening whispers that come from the haze. The haze has a voice of its own, but masterfully makes you believe that what its telling you comes from what other people are thinking about you. All day it whispers all of your doubts, fears, and insecurities into your ear, slipping in an extra few ounces of weight with ever word. Then, once its been around long enough, the voice starts sounding like your own. You then begin to hear - in your own voice - messages like:
"You're not good enough,"
"you're ugly,"
"you can't,"
"no one likes you,"
"it's hopeless,"
"you're worthless,"
"stupid,"
"fat,"
"a waste of space,"
"weak,"
And, once it has you believing all the things it says about you, it starts giving you directions:
"Give up,"
"Why try?"
"Stop trying,"
And then the really scary stuff starts when you start hearing, "It would be better if you just went away" and other messages in your spoken to you in your own voice. By this point, you're convinced nothing is going to get better because, once we become accustomed to any one particular thing, it is hard to imagine a life without it.
You feel as if you have fallen down into a dark and deep hole. Your arms and legs ache from kicking and pounding against walls searching for a way to climb out. Your hands are raw and bloody from scratching the rock wall. Your breath is gone and your heart pounds as you realize that you're not going to be able to climb out of this hole. So, you lean up against the cold and rocky wall, slowly slide down until you're sitting on the jagged floor, put your head to your knees, wrap you arms around your legs, and hope it doesn't take too long to die.
You wish you could just disappear.
Vanish.
Not feel.
... And then the alarm goes off... And you have to do it all over again.
All day every day.
With this as a back drop, dose it make sense why having a social stigma against struggling and having problems would be so detrimental to those who live in such a place? It is a (perceived) confirmation to everything we believe about ourselves. Every doubt, every insecurity, and every ounce of weight is doubled when we feel like what we're going through is sub-human and unnatural. So, may I offer a bit of advice? As we struggle with ourselves and as we learn to manage what is going on around us, just be there. You don't need to be the manic cheerleaders on the sidelines or even the best coach in the world as you rip phone-books in half. You just need to be present. Give the option of open and warm communication and please don't get offended if we don't take it. When people are hurt, they say and do things they don't really mean. We are hurting.
Please, don't tell us to be happy. Don't tell us to stop being silly. Don't tell us it's going to get better. Don't tell us that we just need to stop thinking about it or that we just need to, "snap out of it." Those things are not helpful and, more often than not, give more power to the bully. Why? Because in saying those things, you have joined your voice with the internal bully's in shouting the messages that we are not enough and are stupid for feeling the way that we feel. The very messages we tell ourselves every day of our lives. But, whatever you do, please don't be silent! Don't let us feel forgotten. Don't let us feel we have become too much to bear and you've cut us off. If nothing else, just be there. Be as patient and as kind as you can because we - at least I - am not offering either of those things to ourselves.
Depression is a real and a frightening demon. Self doubt is a monster that swallows everything it sees. Both of these have many friends they bring with them in varying degrees. I know that this blog post isn't going to change the world. It may do absolutely nothing. I do hope that it will at least be some sort of added voice for a change in our attitude toward those who struggle. With depression, kindness is the best medicine. Kindness, paired with genuine love, will do more to help combat depression than any other tool.
Open your hearts. Reach down your hands. Let us know you're there. We need you.
Thursday, September 4, 2014
Thoughts 9/4/14
I'm writing this because I don't even know what will help anymore.
I am so tired of trying to be what everyone else wants me to be.
I don't even know who I am anymore. I have completely lost myself. And, if I were try and go and find him, it would take ages and buckets of money that I just don't have.
Quite frankly, I don't really care enough about that poor bastard to even go looking for him.
What I really want more than anything at the moment is to just fade from existence. To disappear and have that be the end of it.
I really think it would do the world a lot of good.
I wouldn't be around to hurt anyone anymore. I wouldn't keep making the same mistakes over and over again - which causes everyone around me more and more pain.
I would cease to be a nuisance to those around me and the world would go on being a better place.
I don't do anyone any good.
I can't do anything right.
I am a worthless pile of expendable and forgettable waste.
I shouted at my baby sister today. She did exactly what I wanted, but it didn't make me happy. She did it because she loved me and was scared that she had hurt me. She did so with a shattered face and a storm of hurt and fear in her eyes. After completing the task, she ran - not just walked or sulked - ran away from me sobbing loudly. All I do is hurt her. And its not just her, its everyone. All I do anymore is hurt those who are stupid enough to try and get close to me.
I really think it will kill me, but it will be safer for everyone else around me if I were to become a hermit. I have had this thought in the past, but I have brushed it off. "I couldn't do that," I tell myself, "I'd die from starvation for human connection."
Well, maybe that's what would be the best for everyone else.
No one else would get hurt. No one else would run away from me in tears because I had beaten them to the ground emotionally. No one else would have to deal with the monster that I have become. They would be free from me and the burden I am.
No more tornado path. No more wake of pain and hurt. No more stupid.
That sounds pretty nice. One of the kindest things I could do to try and make up for everything else.
I am so tired of trying to be what everyone else wants me to be.
I don't even know who I am anymore. I have completely lost myself. And, if I were try and go and find him, it would take ages and buckets of money that I just don't have.
Quite frankly, I don't really care enough about that poor bastard to even go looking for him.
What I really want more than anything at the moment is to just fade from existence. To disappear and have that be the end of it.
I really think it would do the world a lot of good.
I wouldn't be around to hurt anyone anymore. I wouldn't keep making the same mistakes over and over again - which causes everyone around me more and more pain.
I would cease to be a nuisance to those around me and the world would go on being a better place.
I don't do anyone any good.
I can't do anything right.
I am a worthless pile of expendable and forgettable waste.
__________________________________
I shouted at my baby sister today. She did exactly what I wanted, but it didn't make me happy. She did it because she loved me and was scared that she had hurt me. She did so with a shattered face and a storm of hurt and fear in her eyes. After completing the task, she ran - not just walked or sulked - ran away from me sobbing loudly. All I do is hurt her. And its not just her, its everyone. All I do anymore is hurt those who are stupid enough to try and get close to me.
I really think it will kill me, but it will be safer for everyone else around me if I were to become a hermit. I have had this thought in the past, but I have brushed it off. "I couldn't do that," I tell myself, "I'd die from starvation for human connection."
Well, maybe that's what would be the best for everyone else.
No one else would get hurt. No one else would run away from me in tears because I had beaten them to the ground emotionally. No one else would have to deal with the monster that I have become. They would be free from me and the burden I am.
No more tornado path. No more wake of pain and hurt. No more stupid.
That sounds pretty nice. One of the kindest things I could do to try and make up for everything else.
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
Existing
Ya' know, sometimes I honestly wonder why I try... I feel as if every effort I make in any direction is in vain and that, no matter how hard I try, I cannot make a difference in my pathetic excuse of a life. Life has become just a bunch of scary and painful experiences strung together. Come to think of it, I don't think this can count as "living." Life has purpose and meaning, I don't enjoy those comforts. I don't think I would even call this "surviving" because that has the connotation of success - at least in some degree. I would rather call this "existing" - I'm here and not dead and that is all I can say for myself.
I don't have the words to express adequately the frustration and angst I feel towards me and my existence. I'm frustrated because I have many reasons, things, and people that should make me happy, but I feel nothing but darkness, fear, and helplessness. I want to do well in school, be alive and vibrant at twenty three, and at least be worth admiration and respect. All I get (and I guess deserve) is mediocre grades, existing on the edge of oblivion, and I don't deserve respect - I'm just kidding myself on that one.
All I want to do is to go crawl into a dark and forgotten corner, curl up, and go into a dreamless sleep and never wake up. Not only could I use the sleep, I would welcome such oblivion. I'd be out of the way, I wouldn't bother anyone, I wouldn't hurt anyone else, and I could slip away from everyone's memories and disappear.
I don't have the words to express adequately the frustration and angst I feel towards me and my existence. I'm frustrated because I have many reasons, things, and people that should make me happy, but I feel nothing but darkness, fear, and helplessness. I want to do well in school, be alive and vibrant at twenty three, and at least be worth admiration and respect. All I get (and I guess deserve) is mediocre grades, existing on the edge of oblivion, and I don't deserve respect - I'm just kidding myself on that one.
All I want to do is to go crawl into a dark and forgotten corner, curl up, and go into a dreamless sleep and never wake up. Not only could I use the sleep, I would welcome such oblivion. I'd be out of the way, I wouldn't bother anyone, I wouldn't hurt anyone else, and I could slip away from everyone's memories and disappear.
Monday, June 16, 2014
Messy Me
I'm not quite sure what prompted me to start this new blog.... I think I am just needing a space that I can post things to the internet as a way of being daring...
That's a lie.
I want to post on this blog because I couldn't be more depressed at the moment and I want to hide it from those that I have given the URL to my other blog. I don't know why it makes a difference.... I'm no man of consequence. I am an ordinary gay LDS kid who is ruining his life as he goes along. I don't have any friends who stand by me - those that insist they are do so from a distance. I don't know if its because I am such a mess that they don't want to get too close or if they have honestly given up waiting for me to stop being sad and they have moved on to other things that doesn't bring them down in the process.
As for my other problems: I am very much in love with my ex-boyfriend who is very much in love with his new man. That is a discovery I made in recent times and it hurts me to the depths of my soul. I miss him. I want to be the baby talked about in his blog posts. But, I'm not.... And I'll never be.... Its my own fault that the relationship fell apart. I have no one to blame but myself. I could have had him. I could have been happy with him. I don't have him. And it hurts me.
On a completely bi-polar note, I have a massive crush on the cutest guy who might be joining my church. This wouldn't be a problem except that the church is adamantly against homosexual activity - which means that he and I could never be lovers... Just dear friends. This thought simultaneously makes me happy and rips my soul apart. I am really falling for this kid and I may loose him. This second boy could be what pulls me out of my funk from loosing the first one, but how is that any sort fair to him based on my feelings for the first. On top of all of that, I REFUSE to be the reason he doesn't join the church. The church is good and full of love and light. It would do him well to join. It will just hurt for a while.
On top of all of that, I am so lost in my own self doubt and self hatred that I feel bad for even trying to play the love game because I'm bringing so much baggage to the table. I can't even fathom a person loving me for me and REALLY loving ME. The real Josh - full of insecurities and warts and flaws and disasters and all the rest that slips along in my wake.
I am a mess and I don't really care enough about myself to pull myself out. I don't see the worth that others see when they look at me. It CAN'T be true. Why would it be? There is nothing - nor has there ever been - anything special or worthy of saving or loving about me.
I'm sure that there are those who would disagree with me on that fact, but I can't help what I feel - at least what I feel right now. I. Am. A. Mess.
That's a lie.
I want to post on this blog because I couldn't be more depressed at the moment and I want to hide it from those that I have given the URL to my other blog. I don't know why it makes a difference.... I'm no man of consequence. I am an ordinary gay LDS kid who is ruining his life as he goes along. I don't have any friends who stand by me - those that insist they are do so from a distance. I don't know if its because I am such a mess that they don't want to get too close or if they have honestly given up waiting for me to stop being sad and they have moved on to other things that doesn't bring them down in the process.
As for my other problems: I am very much in love with my ex-boyfriend who is very much in love with his new man. That is a discovery I made in recent times and it hurts me to the depths of my soul. I miss him. I want to be the baby talked about in his blog posts. But, I'm not.... And I'll never be.... Its my own fault that the relationship fell apart. I have no one to blame but myself. I could have had him. I could have been happy with him. I don't have him. And it hurts me.
On a completely bi-polar note, I have a massive crush on the cutest guy who might be joining my church. This wouldn't be a problem except that the church is adamantly against homosexual activity - which means that he and I could never be lovers... Just dear friends. This thought simultaneously makes me happy and rips my soul apart. I am really falling for this kid and I may loose him. This second boy could be what pulls me out of my funk from loosing the first one, but how is that any sort fair to him based on my feelings for the first. On top of all of that, I REFUSE to be the reason he doesn't join the church. The church is good and full of love and light. It would do him well to join. It will just hurt for a while.
On top of all of that, I am so lost in my own self doubt and self hatred that I feel bad for even trying to play the love game because I'm bringing so much baggage to the table. I can't even fathom a person loving me for me and REALLY loving ME. The real Josh - full of insecurities and warts and flaws and disasters and all the rest that slips along in my wake.
I am a mess and I don't really care enough about myself to pull myself out. I don't see the worth that others see when they look at me. It CAN'T be true. Why would it be? There is nothing - nor has there ever been - anything special or worthy of saving or loving about me.
I'm sure that there are those who would disagree with me on that fact, but I can't help what I feel - at least what I feel right now. I. Am. A. Mess.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)