anxiety / mental health / mental illness / young adult

Bigots, Bullies and Narcissists

“In a hole so deep, I couldn’t see the light. Now that I can; it’s unreachable.”

It wasn’t until I was maybe nineteen, that I finally started to work out how botched up society is. Since the age of fifteen, I have known that I come off as an unpleasant person. Had I been treated as an equal, and not a ‘faggot’ or a ‘queer’ (in an all male school), I wouldn’t have been so guarded. I would have just been me. Apparently that wasn’t preferred, and still isn’t in my community. So of course, at every echo; of every stare, I would prepare myself for the worst.

Then things had poorly developed, and I became bitter, when I found out that it wasn’t just about me being gay. The abuse I received was also due to the way I kept myself. My hair was either black, red, cosmic blue, white, silver or something else that wasn’t local. Something that would stand out, and quite frankly; where I’m from, standing out isn’t a good thing.

I had already gone through that, at school. Kids branding me ‘pizza face’, calling me and other boys out. Boys who were unfortunate enough to have acne. However, I had it quite bad. I had to see a dermatologist every month to receive my medication, and blood tests. It had spread to my neck, back and I had blemishes on my chest.

I was very paranoid, and avoided showing any skin. I thought a little foundation might help, but it was quite recognizable (I couldn’t blend, at all). Which only made matters much worse.

For the past two years I have been very focused on my weight, which has had an extremely negative affect on me. See, I like food. It’s loyal. It can’t run away, or talk back. I eat when I’m sad, bored or feeling nostalgic. I eat to take my mind off things. I bake, and cook from scratch. It has become an excessive habit, actually. I enjoy it, but at the same time I hate it. Because I’ll eat what I prepare, then I’ll feel bad about myself. But I almost feel attached to food.

Separating myself from people has been hard. But it feels right. I’m not sure who for, though. I have anxiety, depression, I self-loath on a daily basis. I need people to tell me that they need me, not that they love me. Because the only way I can get by, is for people to want something from me. I can put the guilt and cycle of suicidal thoughts on pause, and do something good. I’m usually just a shoulder to lean on, but it pins thoughts into my head. “Somebody needs me, so I can’t end it all now. Not yet”.

The truth is; I’m just a coward, anyway. I can’t recall the last thing that I needed, that I did for myself. I want something, but I won’t do it. I don’t quite know how to explain this, but it’s like; I’m not being lazy. I’m depressed. I have no motivation. E.g. Despite how many times I want to tear holes in my wrists, a swarm of voices in my head butt in and remind me that it’s pointless. That I should just suffer silently. Because I know if anybody sees my scars, they might ask what’s wrong, and I can’t open up. I won’t let them in. I don’t want to hurt anybody by being this way. But ending my suffering, will only make people mourn after me. If anybody would. If anybody cared enough.

So many ‘ifs’. Like, ‘what if?’. What if, I’m completely wrong and people do care? I’m somebody who has thought of every outcome I can possibly think of, for any situation I see myself being in. So I hope you can see my dilemma. My many dilemmas.

I have no conclusion. I have no beginning, middle or end. I just have a heart full of love, for the people close to me. Whether or not they feel the same way, is for them to wrap up. Yet it’s still so cold, bitter and dark. The side of me, that only I get to experience.

Potential is my silver lining. It’s one word that can steer me in the right direction. Whether or not I’m ready for the drive, is undetermined. I change my mind all the time. I give up a lot.

In a hole so deep, I couldn’t see the light. Now that I can; it’s unreachable. I want to do what’s best for me. Come hell, come high water. I just can’t promise myself that anything good will ever happen, and I’m not exactly prepared for any major setbacks. I have a voice, and a talent. So I’ll use both! But that doesn’t mean I will go anywhere else, outside of these four walls that I ache in.

I know who I want to be, and being that person is achievable. It’s totally realistic. But I don’t know how to work my way up the ladder, without having to deal with extremely rude people. Because all I’ve ever dealt with are bigots, bullies and narcissists. No shit, we all come across those kinds of people. But beyond them, in the journey that I strive for. Is there room in this world for a person like me?

I want to know, and I really want to believe that I’m going to be okay.


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