Right now I feel very depressed

I just want to crawl into bed wearing my favorite hoodie and cry myself to sleep while listening to Mayday Parade in the darkness.

It feels like my heart has been cut in two and no matter how many times I try to stitch the halves together they always have a way of coming undone and I am just so tired of trying to fix something that will forever be broken.

I am learning that there are some things in life that you can’t fix and I am one of them. I was broken 7 years ago and I have spent the last 6 years of my life trying to put myself together. I have gone to therapy, I have talked to family and friends, I have moved across the united states by myself to try to start my life over somehow and what do I have to show for it?

Here’s what I have. I have eyes that I cover with so much eyeliner because I don’t want anyone to take a chance at seeing into my soul. Underneath my eyes are dark circles from the many sleepless nights I’ve had because I can’t stop crying. I have scars on my legs from the times I have cut myself just hoping that if I punished myself for my own mistakes and everybody else’s that maybe, just maybe all that I’ve been feeling inside would just pour out of me and I wouldn’t have to feel it anymore. I have notebooks piled everywhere of poems I have written, some with tear stains, some with blood stains all about how I feel about myself, the ones I love, the world, how I see it, how I feel it, how I sense it and how I hurt so much all the time and how badly iIwant it all to end but I realized that I can write a million poems on how I feel and that still wouldn’t be able to get someone to understand me and my voice still wouldn’t be heard. I have a voice that screams as loud as it can and it’s as if I’m ******* invisible.

What I hate the most though is that I have a heart that should have stopped beating a long time ago. My heart is so fragile, it feels like it’s hanging from a thread and sometimes when I cry I start to get chest pains because I’m hurting so much. My heart is a part of me, it’s what I follow when I have to make important decisions, my heart is where my passion for music and writing come from. My heart has been lied to, disappointed, shattered, ignored, used, devastated, over worked, overwhelmed and when given to someone I thought would take good care of it, it was let go of, thrown, tossed like a game, stepped on, crushed and laughed at but it’s still running. It’s still doing it’s job at keeping me alive despite the chest pains it has to deal with when me, the one it’s working for, is having a meltdown. Just when I think my heart is at the point of never feeling anything again it does. No matter how many times my heart and I have been pushed away I always find a way to believe in things like trust, hope, miracles and even love. I have a way of opening up from time to time and letting someone get to know the real me all the while building a wall around myself as fast as I can out of fear of someone seeing too much and hating me later.

Pain is all I know. Crying myself to sleep is normal to me. Blaming myself for other people’s problems is what I have done since I can remember. Cutting is what I’m familiar with doing because I have done it for so long. Music and writing are what get me through the day. When people criticize me, put me down, or tell me what a **** up I am music and poetry are the things that tell me “Mandie those people are wrong, please don’t listen to them.”

Listening to music when I’m sad is the same as someone giving me a hug, holding me and letting me cry into their shoulder. Writing poetry is the same as writing a letter to someone only it’s not to one person. Depending on the poem and my mood, it can be a letter to a friend, an enemy, a boy I like, a family member, someone who died, someone who feels the way I do right now.

After writing all that I just wrote I still feel very sad and there’s tears falling on the keyboard I am typing off of now but that is nothing new. I cry more than I smile, I walk more than I talk, I spend all my time protecting myself from getting hurt instead of making plans and having fun, I worry more than I laugh, I am scared about a lot of things but I don’t show it, I’m strong on the outside but inside I am falling apart always. People think they know me and they don’t. They know my name but not my story. No one other than God knows me. Not even my best friend. Not even the guy I’m in love with knows me the way everyone thinks they do. Secrets, ***, hanging out, sharing your feelings…those things can help you get to know a person and bring them closer to you but there’s still a part of all of us that we keep hidden from the world because we are so scared of rejection, of losing ourselves, of being hurt, of being too different, maybe even being unwanted after being told we would be loved no matter what.

I just want to feel better but I will never feel better. I can walk on the strip in Vegas with a smile on my face, holding hands with the one I want to spend forever with but inside I will be terrified of the person who was by my side then changing his mind hating me two years from now and all the happiness I felt that day would be something that was taken away, never to be returned again. They say life is too short to be anything but happy, if life is so short then why spend it being disappointed and hurt over and over again? You take a chance at being happy and it gets destroyed. Why put yourself through something you know wont last? If my life is so short I don’t have time for games and being lied to, cheated on and thrown away, being treated like an option or being nominated for second choice. I would rather protect myself from that. I would be happier if I protected myself, not let anybody in instead of being hurt and crying all the time like I do now.

I know I said I was depressed before, but after reading all that I just typed I now feel very very sad. I don’t like how I feel about certain things and situations, I don’t like the walls I have built around myself, I also don’t like the condition my heart is in. I don’t like who I’ve become and I cant find a way to change how I feel about all that I talked about. I guess that’s why I call myself broken…