Confession

I have something I really want to tell someone, but I don't think I should. This someone is happy and doesn't deserve me raining on that and making things miserable. I don't want people to feel like me, and I definitely don't want people to think about me. If I said something, they'd probably be thinking about me then. But if I told them, a lot of things would probably make more sense. But then am I just stepping out of place?

I just want to explain myself, why I'm like this. They don't know. They don't know my past and my insides and my history and my mind. They don't know what depression is and that I'm now just fessing up to the fact that I have it badly. They don't know that everyday my first thought when I wake up is "I wish I was dead." And then they don't know that I can't even get that relief because I feel since I'm so screwed up on the inside I'm not right with God. And I don't know how to be right with God. Because I'm so skewed in a direction taken over by something I can't control, I can't think like the rest of people, be positive. It's not an act, my "hate." It's the only thing I know.

They don't know that I really don't hate the Triple Threat Girl. My biggest role model is one (Kristin Chenoweth). I secretly desire to be just like her. But unless I've felt accepted early on by one, I'm only hostile in thought. I desire to have a big smile on my face and 500 friends on facebook and people who comment on ridiculous pictures of me if only to say "you're such a dork." But I've learned to protect myself. And I've done it by freezing my heart, my soul. I am only hostile. And they don't know that I don't want to be.

They don't know that I can only focus on physical outer looks because my inner world is just a mess of dark and torment and anger and hate and despair and pain and I can't count on my inner "looks" to make it successfully through this life or in the dating world. They don't know I would hurt myself everyday in high school because I felt so inferior and worthless. They don't know I constantly debate taking up an offer to sleep with someone if only to have a false sense of confidence and love. My body to me is only as worth what it is: a body. A shell of skin and bone and that's all. I'm worthless every way else. Because no one wants what's inside here. I sure as hell wouldn't so I can't imagine any other normal person out there would. So why can't I follow hollow fantasies? People say it's meaningless and doesn't fill the hole, but hey, I'm meaningless and my holes can never be filled anyway.

No, I just don't think I should tell them. If someone can live in blissful happiness in this world, I'm not going to stop them. I'd love to, just to feel like I have some company way down here. But I wouldn't. It's nice that someone out there can really be happy inside and out. I just wish that was me too.