#3- Because I just…

sadness

For the last few months I have been counting the strings I need to tie up before I end my life. Some of my friends would never believe this, me, who always has a ready smile, the chatty happy drunk, this adventurer who would try anything once. Let me tell you psychological issues are a real bummer. Actually 54% of adults and teenagers in the world are currently suffering different sorts of psychological stops and hum drums. So maybe I want to write this before I die, or maybe as a revelation to those around me, that I am slowly dying on the inside, I have been waving the save me sign for the last few years without you seeing it. So maybe this is a letter, or just a bunch of facts that I will probably edit or delete later because sharing will probably hurt others and I am nothing if not masochistic.

I would like to apologize to my father: you from whom silence still resonates, for the times I wrote letters full of hope, for the many times I forgave you, for all the times I cried in the shower because my fantasy was better than reality, he times I have swung between love and hate for you, for all for all the times I took a psychological beating in your ignorance, for how to you I am a failure and a youthful mistake you can’t quite erase.

I would like to apologize to my mother: for all the times you made me feel so small I disappeared inside myself to the point of creating and living in fantasies that I could never maintain, for the emotional absence, for the walls you put up that whatever love I had bounced off, for all the times your loves dominated mine, for the specific day I knelt down to apologize for growing up and you shot me down.

I would like to apologize to my family: the people I stay away from because I always fade into the background, for those times sharpened jabs were thrown my way for being, for your not so subtle wars and back stabs, for how to you its not African to be depressed.

I would like to apologize to my friends: the few you are, the many times I have sacrificed to the point so without and beneath dignity , for the times I let your lives take precedence over mine, for all the times I have done things blindly because I would literary die for you.

I would like to apologize to the man who made me grow up so impossibly fast: for all the times I let you visit my mind’s shadows, for all the times I was afraid, for all the times I shook so badly at anyone’s touch, for the times I have hardened my heart with mistrust, for all the times I poke at the scabs that will probably never heal as punishment or to just feel when I am numb.

I would like to apologize to my brother: you who I love purely, you are the sun; so beautiful and innocent, I am sorry for staying away, for loving you from afar, you see I am afraid I am contagious, so you have a second chance at happiness and normalcy.

I would like to apologize to my best friend: you who has seen my vulnerability, I apologize for never showing you my full shadows. I was afraid if I introduced you to my demons, then you would try shoulder some of them.

I would like to apologize to the man I love: for the love that will never blossom, for all the assumptions I have made, for the loss we have gone through, for all the times I let you off easy.

I would like to apologize to my first love: for how I failed you, for all the times I let you disrespect me, for all the times I should have  forgiven you, for all the times loath is what I felt for you. Maybe if I was better, a bit grown up and not neck deep in fantasy and pain; maybe if I took you back that one last time you would still be alive. You are my worst regret.

I would like to apologize to myself: for all the times I have cried and not shared, for all the times I have lived a fantasy, for all those nights I have lay in bed so cold because I was lonely, for all those times I have sought refuge in strange beds and poisonous vices, for all the times I have lied and let myself down, for all the loves I have lost, for all the time I have wasted chasing temporary solutions, for the talent I have wasted, for the ambition I let die, for the times I have felt invisible and ugly, for the times I have not allowed myself to get angry, as in bloody furious, for the times I was the loudest in the group, trying too hard to be funny, for the times I have let things slide and bottled them up; which brings me to this moment, maybe if I did talk and you listened without judgement or feelings then maybe, just maybe I wouldn’t be here.

Home with the flu and spending my day in bed has me reading some really interesting things. I just read an article on addiction, (Biko Zulu), I was moved…maybe mind blown is a better term. Thus this piece

I recently came across this quote…“Only the dead have seen the end of war”…

 But this is not a suicide note…prelude.

I stand naked.

sorrow

*Anonymous*

Disclaimer!!!!! this post wasn’t done by me…but by a person searching for means of exressing herself.

Depression is real. Think of those days when you didn’t and couldn’t be bothered to socialize or speak to people around you mainly because you are simply exhausted. Think of how bad it felt because no one understood you but proceeded to judge (she’s on her period/ he usually gets like this) without understanding the problem or the person.

I suggest as we give these people space…we make sure they are not alone and that they are loved. Put a smile on their face….it goes a long way.

Xo.

Peace and Love.

Driee❤

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