Authors: Maria Ann Green
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Dear Diary,
I don't know why everything has to seem like such a big deal. And I mean
everything
. After my pencil broke today, I almost cried. I felt so stupid about my reaction, but even as I realized I was being crazy, it was hard to swallow down the lump in my throat. Tears pricked at the back of my eyes, and I had to blink them away or they would have spilled down my cheeks. Then, when I tried to sharpen it by the classroom door, and it wouldn't work, I had to get a pass to go to the bathroom.
I just couldn't hold it in anymore.
I actually cried in the bathroom because something small went wrong, and because I wasn't able to do something that
should
have been easy. My emotions just refused to be kept inside. I broke down over a pencil. How stupid is that? Why did I have to cry? And why did it need to feel like a bigger deal than it would to anyone else?
This is starting to get out of control, and I'm feeling like a freak, but I swear I'm trying hard not to be one. I don't like the people who always make something out of nothing.
I know I wasn't always this way.
It used to be easier to brush stuff off or let it go. But every day that passes lately seems more and more difficult. More makes me want to blow up and yell, run away and hide, or break down and cry. What happened to happy reactions? Where did they go?
I wish I had the answer, because I miss being happy and carefree.
I see most of my friends throwing their heads back and laughing, and instead of joining in, all I can see is a vivid green of jealousy. Then I wonder why they get to be so much happier. I wonder if they know some secret no one has shared with me. Maybe I'm just not special enough to know yet. Or maybe I haven't earned it.
Sometimes I even worry I've become a robot or a type of pod person. Somehow, maybe while I was sleeping, someone came into my bedroom, cut out my heart, and replaced it with mechanical hardware. Or my whole soul has been taken out and replaced with an unhappy replica.
If that's the case I wish they would change me back soon.
These feelings that I feel
Are unsteady and unsure
These feelings that I feel
Are self-conscious and afraid
They don't know what to do
And they're afraid of what will happen
If they express themselves to you
I am a girl
Standing in front of you
Asking you to accept me
I am a friend
Standing beside you
Asking you to love me
I am a teen
Standing next to you
Asking you to stay with me
I am a child
Standing with you
Asking you to guide me
I am your friend
Standing forever by your side
Asking you to love me
I am the girl standing next to you
I am the girl crying beside you
I am looking for comfort
I am hoping for reassurance
I am in need of a friend
I am asking you to tell me it will all be okay
When in my heart I know it won't
There are so many things
That I fail to be
I'm not perfect
I'm not stable
I'm not even close to happy
I'm not what you want
I'm not what you need
I'm not even trying to be
I'm not coping well
I'm not working through
My ever-mounting problems
All I can do
Is sit and wallow
Counting the things
I cannot do
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Dear Diary,
What's the point of it all anyway?
Why do we work so hard in school just to get into another school, and another, and then into a job we probably won't even like? Adults are always saying it was so much easier when they were kids, and working full time sucks. Why is that what we strive for then? Plus, I'm not sure they know what being
this
kind of kid is like.
But it's so much more than that. I find so much pointless.
Why do we worry about what people think of us when everyone is just doing the same thing? Why do we
like
people before we know more about who they are or how we connect with them? Why do we have to feel sad, angry, scared, or nervous?
Why is life so confusing and hard so much of the time?
Just
why
?
Okay, maybe I'm just being too dramatic again. Maybe I'm worrying too much about things other people don't bother to fret over. Or maybe I just need to seriously calm down.
But, for whatever reason, I have been over thinking everything, and I've been full of anxiety over the littlest things lately. Like the pencil incident. That was just the beginning. I can't seem to let the little stuff go. Calming down is usually impossible, even after realizing I need to. Shouldn't I be able to calm myself down? That's a skill I
used
to have.
And it all seriously just sucks. Everything.
I want things to be easier. I want to be happier. I want to have more fun and be scared less. Will that come with age? Other adults don't look so unsure and chaotic inside. When you grow up do you just understand things better? Do you generally feel better about yourself?
I honestly hope so.
Because if not, if I'm just a weirdo, then I don't know what to do.
Unsure of the path I'm seeing
Unsure of the life I'm leading
Don't know what to do
Don't know how to do it
Too many mistakes made
Too much time when I was unsure
Unsure of what I do
Unsure of what is said
Unsure of who I am
They look at me and laugh
They mock me
Night and day
They don't know when I've had enough
They don't understand
How much I hurt inside
They make me cry
As they laugh
Maybe if I talk to them
They'd try to understand
The pictures on the wall
They're always watching me
And they'll never understand
Who can that be
Staring straight back at me
Eyes so dull
And hair quite limp
She doesn't look fed
She looks tired
And needs to go to bed
She doesn't look happy
But not quite sad
Emotionless
Never getting mad
People say rude and mean things
She never talks back
She's never rude back
She doesn't cry
Although her self esteem
Is not super high
Who is this girl
With no life at all
She's living in a world
That's no world at all
To everyone else
She's so small
She doesn't speak up
Nor does she respond
She's a dull lifeless robot
And has formed
With no one
Any special bonds
Who is this girl
Staring back at me
Who can it be
Why when I look closer
I start to realize
That sad hopeless
Girl is me
Staring into a mirror
Back at pathetic old me
I hide so many things
Behind my layer of armor
I use to shield my pain
My feelings are hidden
My friends and family don't even know
I hope they never do
I hold so many secrets
Can never let them go
I'm getting there
I can tell I'm close
And all along the way
I worsen my life
I hate the way I look and feel
And everything I do
On the way to the real thing
I hate and love what I do
I'm getting there
I can tell I'm close
Depression is not far away
Â
Dear Diary,
Something is new, but not
good
new. Not only am I always upset, but now I've also been super tired lately.
Actually I'm constantly exhausted.
I have no idea what's going on with me. One bad thing follows another. It's possible for me to sleep ten hours at night, and when I get home from school, I will feel I can't get anything done, or even start my homework, before I get in a nap. And my naps aren't short. They last for hours at a time.
I will lie on the couch for huge chunks of time, stretch out, taking up all the space just watching TV. After my nap I feel like a lump, a waste of space, with nothing better to do than be lazy. Then dinner is ready, a few more TV shows, and I'm back to bed.
I sleep more than I ever used to, and yet it never seems to be enough.
I'm great at being lazy. Right now it might be my hobby, the thing I'm best at. What a talent. Luckily, my homework isn't suffering. But thankfully, that has always come easily to me. I still get every assignment done when it is due, between naps, and the answers are correct. Maybe that's why nothing seems off to anyone else. Looking like I care is easy; I know how to do that. But none of it is ever interesting to me either. Yet no one notices how I've changed.
Like I said, I'm not worried about my grades or school at all. I get everything turned in, interesting or not. At least that keeps everyone off my back about all of the sleeping. If I can get an A, then there is nothing wrong with me, right? Apparently.
I've wondered lately, if things get worse, will I still be able to go unnoticed? Maybe I can fly under the radar, no matter how bad things get internally, if I keep the external version of myself socially acceptable. No one wants to be brought down by someone else's problems, right? At least that's how it seems.
Ugh. I'm getting tired again. This exhaustion never goes away.
Maybe I'll write more after my nap.
How do you define depression
To some it's a way of life
And to others just a thing
Never to be dealt with
It can be a person
The darkness
Or a figure in the midst ever moving
Never close enough to conquer
How do you define the real thing
I can't get enough
I always want more
When my head hits the pillow
In an instant I'm beyond gone
Lights out
Oblivious and unconscious
All I want is more sleep
Because when I'm there
Somewhere in dream land
Fast asleep
Nothing matters
I'm not sad
I'm not a disappointment
I'm just floating through
Always wanting
More sleep
I know you are
Most certainly
And undeniably
Better off
Without me
You are more capable
To love
You are more honest
And better in general
At being what someone
Needs and deserves
I am broken
Beaten
Standing on one leg
Only half my heart beating
I know you put forth
More effort
And genuine love
While I continue to
Make mistakes
And ruin what I have
But that is who I am
And until I find
The one who makes me
A better person
That is how I will stay
So as hard as it is to say
You should move on
Be without me
Because you are certainly
Better off that way