|Life of Changing
Author: Genetic Paranoia PM
This is like a diary full of rant and my spazzy emotions. May contain: Swearing, insults and various other bad things. "Because what can you do when you want to rip your own head off?"Rated: Fiction T - English - Drama - Chapters: 5 - Words: 2,971 - Updated: 05-08-12 - Published: 05-01-12 - id: 3018631
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
9th April 2012
I'm not supposed to feel like this.
I'm not supposed to feel so negative, so tired, so useless.
I'm not supposed to compare myself to everyone else, I'm not supposed to look in the mirror and feel like throwing up.
I'm not supposed to envy you, I'm supposed to be grateful for what I have, consider myself lucky.
I'm not supposed to hate everything about myself, I'm not supposed to be full of bitterness.
I'm not supposed to be confused.
It's meant to be like in stories, people are supposed to notice, things are supposed to get better.
Things are supposed to be hard to begin with.
My head isn't supposed to be messed up like this, can't I just be miserable all the time, like everyone else?
Why do I have to be constantly up and down?
Why can't I be freed of this feeling of mistrust?... These feelings of worthlessness?
Suspecting- no… knowing that everyone's laughing behind my back?
Why can't I just feel wanted, loved?
Despite what I have, I can't feel like anyone feels anything other than contempt for me, or maybe pity.
Time and time again, everyone said they'd be there, yet why does it feel like I'm separated from them by bars?
It's my head. That's what those bars are. They're me. I'm stopping myself.
Because I've got to help the others no matter what, it's what I want to do, I like helping… or trying to help, at least.
Then why does my head throb every time I attempt to help someone? Is it throbbing with impatience… jealousy?
What the hell is wrong with me?
"It'll go away."
"There's nothing wrong with you."
Slowly, it gets harder to breathe. Slowly, it feels like I'm drowning.
I feel like I'm compressed in a small test-tube, held over a Bunsen burner; held at a safe distance, all eyes on me, waiting for something stupid to happen.
There is something wrong, no matter how small. It feels like a glitch in my brain and it gets worse each day, even when I feel happy.
Others have problems. I'll shut up. I'll stay in the background like I always do…
I'll lose all of you.
If I recall correctly, I wrote this a while back after arguing with my parents and feeling suspicious of everyone laughing at me.
It was written in the style of a kind of one-shot, as if it wasn't meant to be from my perspective. I think I was going to upload it to my DeviantArt but decided that it'd be taken as an attempt at being an attention whore and decided not to. I don't know what the hell I'm thinking at the moment. I want to go outside (damned shame it's 11:33PM here)