“Are you OK?” he asked softly as he brushed his thumb along the side of my face. His eyes were staring into my eyes.
“How the hell would you know what lengths you’d go to for someone you really cared about? Nobody even cared for me! People just love to talk about my failed life because they are not once but twice! Do you think I love to lead such a life?! Maybe I should just end my —“
My voice broke and my throat swelled. I couldn’t finish my sentence. I let out a sob as he placed his hand on my knee. I continued to cry my heart out. He took me in his arms, stroking my hair.
“Hey. You still have your family, close friends, and me. Don’t ever say about your failure. They are all in the past. You have tried your best. It’s their faults, and those who talked behind your back – they have never been your supporters.”
This is me. This is part of who I am. My failures which everybody loved to talk – including my so-called relatives. They referred me as a psychotic or being an unsound mind. Depression hits me a few times. I may look normal but there are times where I couldn’t bear the humiliations. Self-injuries sound normal to me because that were the way I try to cope with the problem because it was so hard to talk about it – not everyone do understand, most of them love to know the news for them to judge and bossy around. They would eventually say that I’m just acting as a victim to earn sympathies.
I feel relieved and less anxious after I cut. The emotional pain slowly slips away into the physical pain.
A couple of months ago, I met this guy when we were on duty. Tried to shoo him away by telling him about my failed life, but he taught me to share about my situation. He’s always encouraging me to talk openly and get out from my hiding place, to get over my fears, but I had no idea how to do it. I even cut my wrist in front of him because I felt so alone and embarrassed with my life. I even stopped from blogging because I felt so ashamed – It would be better for me to hide myself.
The day flies by. I’m grateful to have a few close friends who would never talk about my life. They would just talk about the current ones. I find myself being welcomed by everyone with open arms. I keep a small circle of friends, and I am very grateful to have them beside me.
I guess only time will tell how much… ’til then. I just hope I would be able to write again soon.