Sometimes I wonder if happiness exists.
Or it’s all just an illusion to guise the fact that life is truly painful.
The agony and despair some face on a daily basis makes you question if this life is worth living.
A life where I can no longer sleep at night because my mind is clouded with negativity.
A life where I can barely go a day without tears in my eyes.
A life where I crave loneliness because it’s better than facing the cruelty people bring.
A life where I can barely feel as though I am worth something no matter how hard I try to get myself to believe otherwise. People can tell me how beautiful and amazing they believe I am; I am still finding it harder to believe with every experience I face.
A life where I can barely push myself through the day because it takes all my energy to even push myself out of bed into a world of depression and disappointment.
A life where I have been hurt and tormented so much I am numb.
A life where I have went over the limits of my strength and now am nothing but vulnerable and easily broken.
A life where I have so many mental scars I can no longer trust someone no matter how genuine they are.
A life where I feel I can not reach out to anyone, not even my closest of friends out of fear of bothering or them misunderstanding.
A life where I am used, betrayed, bullied, and walked all over then left questioning if I deserve it.
A life where no one understands the impact of their words and treatment toward someone.
A life where I am too delicate to handle this poor treatment.
A life where no amount of pills or therapy will help.
A life where I cannot express any of this out of fear of being deemed as crazy or crying for attention.
A life where I no longer remember what happiness feels like or if I ever felt it at all.
Or as an ex of mine once so delightfully said,
“No one wants a depressed, insecure girl who whines all the time.”
I have came to the conclusion that some of us just aren’t meant to be happy. I ponder at times if I am one of those people.