I don’t know who’ll read this but
Lately there’s been so much on my mind. The type of person I want to be, the type of people I want to be friends with, who I actually am, who I want others to think I am.
I don’t know where the line is. Where do the feelings I feel stop being normal and border on becoming abnormal. I tell myself that everyone feels the things I feel, and how can anyone not think the way I do when they’re utterly alone with their thoughts.
Years ago when I crossed roads I’d wish a car would hit me. If I was in a car I’d pray another car would hit the one I was in and wouldn’t even think that the other people in the car would also be hurt. Whenever I’d cross a bridge I’d think about jumping off for a split second but keep walking and act as if those thoughts never entered my mind.
I’d tell myself that everyone thinks these things. Right? People tell themselves they’re normal. We want to be normal. We want to fit in. We don’t want people to think there’s something abnormal going on.
Years ago I went to my school counsellor and told her I was worried about leaving school, going to college, and then I admitted I couldn’t see a future for myself. I couldn’t imagine myself getting passed exams, getting past anything. I live each day as it comes and don’t think about the future because the future is so hard to imagine.
And it still is. So hard to imagine. I can’t imagine myself finishing college in two years and having a degree. Imagining myself doing something different to what I’m doing now has always been hard for me.
And I tell myself, this is normal.
Everyone thinks this.
Right?
But the counsellor wanted to get my parents involved and get me to see a psychologist.
And I didn’t
Because I told myself. This is normal.
I told a friend about the intrusive thoughts, about wanting to jump off a bridge or wishing a car would hit me. She told me I should talk to someone.
But I told myself. This is normal. Everyone feels this.
As I write this I know it’s not normal. I always consider setting up an appointment to see a real therapist. But I can’t because fully admitting everything I feel about everything out loud scares me because
I don’t want someone to think my thoughts aren’t normal
And then I think I’m ridiculous because I know it’s not normal but also, who is? People think things and don’t go talk to someone and they get on with it and so can I.
I tell myself that.
My friends think I’m so funny.
I’m the joker of my friend group and love making people laugh.
And maybe I’m one of those people who other people look at and think wow, I wish I was happy like her.
Maybe those people I look and think that about are the same as me, on the inside.
Or maybe they’re not.
And I wouldn’t know.
And maybe they know and they don’t care.
And maybe I care too much.
I tell myself it’s fine and I don’t need to talk to someone because, this will pass.
It always does.
I’ll hate my degree and the world for a few weeks.
It will pass.
Like it always does.
It’s normal to feel this way sometimes. Right?
I’m not trying to convince anyone or anything.
I’m not even trying to convince myself.
I know who I am, and who I want to be.
And maybe those two people are the same, or maybe they’re different.
The person I am as I write this is this person I see myself as.
And the person I am when I don’t feel this way is, well, feeling all of this, but she hides it so well.
Like that girl who makes jokes in class, and as I think of that there’s two hundred other things I think of that annoy me about myself.
But everyone thinks that.
Right
Right
Right.













