It’s been a long time and I’ve honestly been through a lot of… stuff ever since the last post. I suppose there’s no denying it now. I am not okay. From the very first post to this one, I have never been okay. And if you noticed, yes, that’s three years of non-okay-ness.
So a quick update on my life.
1. I went for a major competition and made it to the finals, but losing a trip to Britain. I am still sad over it, yes, but I have gone further than anyone in my school ever did considering it’s a really big thing and that I led a team into it. And am I happy about that? Well, I do feel great, but…
2. My teacher was a jerk and didn’t publicize our achievement. She posted a picture of us on Facebook at the finals, but let’s face it, who on earth uses Facebook anymore? There was no announcement made to the school like when other people participated in competitions and make it to the finals, but oho, no, not for us, the underdogs who made it further than anyone would have ever dreamed of.
3. So one day I decided that it was my right to announce our victory, being the captain and all. And I made a sign that said we were finalists, and then flashed it in our school club photo right after I was told off and told not to by said teacher. Just to show I could, and there was no more “HEEL!” for me any longer.
4. If that was a hint that I wasn’t okay enough, then I broke down right after that. Four to five years of non-okay-ness, two and a half of pretending to be fine and really happy and ditzy, it all caught up with me, to see myself pushed to the point of being mean and bad all because I could, to see myself turn into this angry, uncontrollable wreck of a person teetering on the brink, I broke down so bad. Details include just collapsing to my knees on the floor, my face in my hands, gripping my skin with all the hate in the world, and finally the tears came, and all these horrible emotions that I had been carrying with me just overflowed that day. I felt like a freak, I felt like a nobody, I felt lost, worthless, and really sh*tty. It was hellish, to think that you had fixed yourself by pretending, but to realize that by doing so you were actually getting worse than ever inside, like some sort of twisted illness that creeps up on you again when you least expect it.
I was never fixed. At all.
My teacher wanted to have a talk with me, and I didn’t want to because I knew that there was no way she could ever help me, and true enough, she only made it worse, she kept avoiding my questions, said things in a way that wasn’t convincing and later concluded that I was just ‘confused about my feelings’.
Couldn’t she take the hints of one who laughed one moment and broke down the next, then later admitted that the laughter was just a front? That she was really this really non-okay person inside? Confused about my feelings? D*mmit lady, I am DEPRESSED. Does anyone dare to say that aloud? DEPRESSED.
I know many people hate that word, some are even afraid, but will you be afraid of one who needs help? Who is ill? Hate someone hurting? Will you?
And I need help. I don’t want to be this way anymore. I want someone to haul me out of this mire, and make sure I don’t fall back in again. I can’t. I just can’t. I don’t even need to be happy. I just want to be okay.
But on the other hand, I’m not too sure. If I’m this way, maybe it’s better, easier. After all, you can’t break what’s already broken.
And I don’t want to break. Ever again.