I fear the night, the darkness, but at times I crave it. Sometimes I need the isolation, the absolute feeling of worthlessness. It is only when I allow myself to be truly alone that I realize that alone is how I always feel. At least when no one is around I don’t have to fake a smile or polite conversation. I can be sad and alone without judgement or fear of ridicule.
I embrace the solitude. I just hope that one day it can give me the strength to end the suffering that I can’t escape.
I was never meant to live this way. I wanted to be a soldier, fight for something bigger than myself. Die a hero’s death. Instead I fight myself, struggling to maintain the appearance of “normal”. My death will not be heroic, I will likely take my own life one day, and for that I will be thought a coward.
What does the world know. The “normal” people judge the suicidal, the depressed, the cutters, the people who hear voices. They look at them like there is something wrong with them, they treat them as outcasts, but when these outcasts, these forgotten souls, finally take their lives everyone calls it a waste, or a cowards death.
How is a man to live when he can’t trust his own mind, when he is drowning in a sea of fear and sadness. When all he needs is a someone to hear and understand him, but instead they turn their back. The man who takes his life is not the coward, the people that watch it happen are the cowards.
Remember to smile,