Being born a twin, I used to think my sister and I would be treated equally. I grew up with this mind set that we would have the same face, the same body, the same amount of friends, the same amount of love, and the same time of death. Of course when you're a little seven-year-old, you would believe all the things you made up in your mind. But slowly, I grew up. School separated us. School was a whole new world in which I could roam free and express myself differently, however, I didn't realize the changes in my sister and I. I--who was supposedly open and happy as a young child--changed into a shy and depressed teenager as soon as I hit high school. For her the exact opposite happened. She--who was very shy and reserved--became this positive ball of energy and light. Friends swarmed around her, all the boys wanted to be with her,--heck--even my parents liked her more (though I'm sure they choose not to admit it). I slowly began to realize how much better she was than me. She always had the love from our older brother who always talked to her first and went on outings with her. She had so much more love from my parents when she decided what she wanted to do in the future (she chose math and science). They were so proud of her. And for some reason, after recognizing all these things about her, I look at myself, and I hate it. I tell myself, "You have no friends." and then try to comfort myself by saying, "It's okay, I don't mind being alone." I tell myself, "No one would ever love you or want to marry you." and I comfort myself, "It's okay, I don't want a child or anyone to disappoint in the future anyways. I would be a bad wife and mother." I tell myself, "Daddy and mommy love her more because she likes math and science like they do." and I comfort myself, "I like reading and writing because it lets me be me." None of those comforting statements are invalid; they're just too heavily influenced by her and all she's been. I always feel so inferior; so much less. All the time I look at what she has and I compare it to what I have, and I feel alone. I try to look at my life and be content with what I have, but I always turn around and see she has something better. When good things come my way, I try so hard to make it last, but it always ends in burning pain and heartbreak. For her, good things stay. And thus began my journey with depression. When I try to talk to her about it, she tries to understand, but most of the time she just tells me to "Get better," like everyone else. What do you say to a depressed teenager? Get better is probably one of the most useless things you could say because it's like this command that's so entirely impossible to the one who thinks that their world is constantly being crushed; that their world is never good enough--that they're not good enough. How will I ever be content with my life if this supposed copy of me somehow always always has a better life--socially, mentally, romantically. How will I ever love myself? Will I ever be good enough for me?
jbbartram-illu
andulkaphoto
annaxmalina
yousharknotpass
turnnoffyourmind
kaledo-art
