fbpx
Menu

Aubree

Forum Replies Created

Viewing 1 post (of 1 total)
  • Author
    Posts
  • in reply to: Am I beyond my years? #118922
    Aubree
    Participant

    I believe that I am inferior to others,actually. I often envy the fact that they can openly ingage in intimate or close contact with friends or even strangers. While I, on the other hand, take hours to even conger up the thought of whether or not I should simply pat someone on the shoulder or scoot closer to them. Which almost always leads to lost opportunities and disconnection between friends. I contemplate over whether or not I should talk to person. Be it a stranger, fellow classmate or a superior. When I’m lost in thought and torn between the two, out of the corner of my eye I could almost see them staring at me in disdain or pity. These things and feelings only pursue the thought that I’m lower and different from everyone else. They say being different and unique is good but I know this is an entirely different thing. People also mock me behind my back, the so called friends I had claimed to have don’t defend me and even take part in it sometimes. The only thing I can do now is stare into nothing with a neutral look plastered on my face, I’ve become so used to being ridiculed that i n order to keep from being lonely I had made up separate versions of me in my head that would talk to me and loathe me when I verbally attacked. My grades are falling below average, my teachers are harsh and unknowing of anxiety resp me having told them several times that I have it. On top of that I live in an extremely dysfunctional family. My father is currently fighting to get my half brother back from CPS and neglecting his other children in the process. Going to places only to blow off hundreds that could have been used for food or clothes for his children, or spending his nights away piss drunk and absolutely discontent with everything in his life. And I don’t even life with him. I live with my single mother who struggles to help us but tries her damn hardest. She’s terminal and doesn’t have too long for this earth, depressed, the black sheep of both of her families but I just simply sit by patiently and reply to her with thought out words because I know it’s hard for her to keep going like this. But that doesn’t me she has no contribution to my turmoil, in fact, she’s indenial about my depression and everytime I bring it up (which is rarely ” she gets defensive and goes on a rant on how she does so much for us and that when she’s dead we’ll see. Which only makes me feel guiltier about feeling this way or suicidal to begin with. My sister only speaks to me when she has something ironic to say or when she’s free from work, usually snapping at me when I try to seek a bit of solace from her after a hard day. It hurts and it makes my chest tighten ever so slightly. But I can’t cry and I won’t, I’m scared that if I were to cry I’d come off as any other angsty preteen seeking attention, and that’s the least of what I want. In fact, I fear being the center of attention because I’m afraid that everything that I’ve been hiding will come into the light or somehow be observed by my classmates. My knowledge on sex is advanced for my age and extremely innappropriate, bordering on the edge of something demented and twisted; But on the exterior displaying a sense of modesty or shyness because in all actuality I could never think of doing things like that myself. Only in my deepest fantasies,truly. Sometimes though, I crave for my innocence back at random, leaving me stricken with grief and realization trailing not too far behin.But I run to things like that online to cope with the pain of everything, even if I despite I can no longer run away. I’ve been absorbed in the idea of love even though I can never achieve, so I picture myself or things of my creation giving up a love to a friend that is unrequited in order to keep believing in the idea that I am, most certainly, unlovable and unappealing to the eyes of others. Everything only topples over heaps of problems and stress, adding to it and eating away at everything I have left in the process. I rise only to fall, and I wait patiently and silent like someone who is given so many responsibilities is supposed to, only to be disappointed and only to fall out of line and back in again. Trying to maintain a false persona of superiority that isn’t there openly to reassure others I am strong and needing guidance from no one. I’m almost accustomed to this continuous loop of silent sadness and pretense.

Viewing 1 post (of 1 total)