note to self

At times when self hatred fills up the hollow void of my existence, I cry.

Sometimes I cry in my room as I curl up inside my blanket with my arms circling around Valentine. When dad knocks on the bedroom door asking me to join him for dinner, I refuse. He doesn't know that I don't want to eat because I hate the way my body looks.

Sometimes I cry in the bathroom, my hands covering the inaudible screaming I make with a towel. When my brother gets mad at me for using the bathroom for too long, I don't yell back. I'm just relieved he doesn't have to go through the same shit I went through.

Sometimes I cry myself to sleep and wake up with terribly puffy eyes the day after. I conceal them with makeup to prevent anyone from knowing that I hurt myself because numbness took control over my conscience.

Sometimes I cry as I stare towards the ceiling, asking why I'm still stuck in the same shithole I've been in for years. I resent myself for not making any progress in life. I wonder what went wrong - am I too immersed in my past? Am I too comfortable in being the person I am now? Am I too scared to face the future repercussions of my past actions?

I cry and it's completely okay. It's not a sign of fragility, it makes me human. It keeps me from stopping. For without the tears, I will never learn to understand and accept the extent of the struggle I lived through. I know for sure that one day I'm going to look up to the sky and realise that I made it through. I lived through all the crap life put me into. I am going to continue living through the ups and downs, and you should too.