What Story

What Story

I never really feel like I have much to share. Whats my story? Oh, I don’t have one worth telling. And there it is. The self hate, no compassion or cares for myself. As much as I’d like to say I don’t care what others think or see, that’s a lie.

I’m not sure how it started or when it became so real, but I’ve hated myself for a long time now. I’ve seen counselors, but most the time I just skim the top of how I’m feeling. I get embarrassed, because I don’t know why I feel this way. I just do. How do I explain something when I don’t even understand it. I can’t put it into words. Yeah, I’ve been through some stuff, but nothing ‘compared’ to what others have experienced. There it goes again, that thought that what I’ve gone through has to be enough to have caused me so much pain.

I miss laughing. And smiling. I miss feeling like I actually know who I am on the inside. I miss making eye contact with people when I talk to them, not sinking into a shell. Feeling confident and smart like I know I can be, but feel dumb the second I open my mouth. I miss me.

Writing this post is terrifying. Will it be posted, shared, seen by others. Will they understand it, judge it, or pity me. I am scared of a million reactions from people I don’t even know. Or maybe I’m scared I’ll get no reaction and be non-existent.

All I do know is that THIS is a part of me. Until I look it in the face I can’t begin the battle.

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Story submitted by Jessica.