I’ve gotten so good at pretending, I’ve managed to fool the world that i’m doing OK, have loads of friends and get invited out all the time by people really close to me. I model. I do charity work, creative projects. I have ample money and work. I party with loads of different friends. Yet the reality is me sitting here, tears streaming down my face wondering if anyone actually even truly cares about me at all. If it would be so bad if I just ended my life here and now to be done with the intense pain I feel.

So many people have taken their piece of me, and each time I have fallen in love it has been with someone that never even cared about me to begin with, yet they’ve always happily taken more than they should. It’s made me question myself so much now that I’m paralysed in my anxiety from it all and my level of self doubt. I can’t move forward I can’t move backwards. I smile through when anyone is around as I’m embarrassed to be anything other than a girl that seems to have it all together or at least mostly so. I need to be bright bubbly and polite. I don’t want everyone to hate the mess that my life has turned me into. I have shown my vulnerability over and over again only ever to be left standing in it all alone.

I have a percentage of my life where I have experienced wonderful things for sure, but that portion of my 34 years of life is only a maximum of 5% in total to the hell I have been in or felt the rest of my time here on earth. Each cancer, each person not understanding me, each death, each heartbreak, each anxiety has finally unravelled me so far I can’t even see the start of the thread anymore to pull myself back together. Now I’m just hiding and trying not to be found out but at the same time wanting desperately to be open and have someone understand.

I’m horrified at what I’m writing as I write this and knowing that I’m contemplating posting this just seems like total social suicide which for some reason seems so much worse than actual suicide. I guess because all I really want is to fit in. Looking down on myself I just hope that maybe someone understands this feeling and can appreciate the honesty or at least if people don’t get it, they can be more aware of what real depression and difficulties can do to someone. It’s not always out in the open and obvious. It’s often hidden behind smiles, beautiful social media posts and motivational quotes.

Not everyone is what they seem, i’ve witnessed that in others first hand. Everyone can have a good day just as everyone can have a bad day. Sometimes those bad days join into one long misery, while others have mostly the good days seamlessly strung together into a long and fruitful life.

Always be kind, always be open enough to never hold a grudge. Life is far too short and some will never get a chance to build enough positive memories to look back on a blessed life. We all struggle and some of us show it in different ways, some not at all.

#thisiswhatwritinglookslikewhenyouaredepressed