When someone lets you down it’s not your trust that suffers the most. It’s your faith. Everything that you believed in will be shattered like glass. Even though you know that what you had was worth something, you can’t help but question it. You can’t help but question everything, in fact. If it was worth something how come people don’t seem to care? Were the confessions just lies? Were the promises just words? Is that how shallow everything had been? Was I just another person tossed to the “has-been” bin after getting bored with?
In my case, I lost myself in the questions that went by unanswered. Sometimes I looked around me and wonder how can everything be so normal for everyone when I lost a big part of me? How can people laugh and joke around like nothing has happened? How can they ask why things aren’t okay when they should know very well why? I know the world doesn’t revolve around me. I know. The world doesn’t stop just because you’re grieving. It’s just that seeing other people happy, well, it doesn’t make me happy. In fact, as sick as it might sound, I wanted them not happy. I wanted them to suffer like me. What the hell did I do to deserve this and what the hell did they do to be happy? I felt like it wasn’t fair.
At the back of my head I knew I was being sucked in to my own personal hole of misery. I felt restless. Like my everyday routine is worthless. I deteriorated and no one was there to notice and tell me to get myself together. I may have been telling myself that I’m doing my best to live but deep down inside, I know I wasn’t. I was lying.
And who suffered in the end? Me. And … oh yeahhh. My grades. You know, back then when I read or hear about the people getting depressed over heartbreak I used to call them weak. Pussies. Like you can’t man yourself up and find another person to suck face with. Naivete, huh?
A lot of inspirational quotes and shit say that happiness is a choice. That one day, if you wake up and decide to be happy then, eventually, you would be happy. Also, people say that in order to be happy, we should be contented. So I’m not trying to sound like a drama queen but being contented in flash isn’t really that easy. Why? Simple. It’s against human nature. People will always want more than what they have. If we were all contented, we’d be lying on our ass and not working hard for a lot of things.
Being happy isn’t a one step thing. Fine, it’s a choice, but it isn’t as easy as the old proverbs make them sound.
I’ve read (or heard) somewhere that there are different stages of the grieving period. First is denial. Well, I’m over that now. I’m on the admission stage now. So here I am. Admitting to it.
I’m depressed and I need help.
Okay, not professional help. Just people who’d back me up or something. I need people who are healthy to be around with. I need people who will tell me I’d do good in my studies. I need people.
This acceptance thing is hard. I missed writing though.
I’ll go prepare for the welcoming of a brand new me.
I started typing hoping for a very insightful piece but then it turned out to be a confession. Great. Anyway. I feel a lot better. 🙂