People around you will never understand your real pain though they are your friends or family, more so if they are just strangers. They cannot feel the struggles you’re going through. Upon confessing that you are distressed, you would be mocked instead of being encouraged because they often assume that you are only seeking for attention, too childish, or worse, just having a joke.
Those things are the reason why I am afraid to disclose my fragile emotions. I fear to be left because of my unfortunate condition. I always end the day stating that I am okay, though in reality, I am shattered in pieces. Why should I expose my weakness when no one is willing to hear my long sad story? Well, who the hell wants to?
Like other fellows who is on the same ground with me, they are expert on smiling despite being broken inside. Ordinary buddies would never comprehend our deep feelings. They fail to realize that we are not craving for your intense regard, but we just need someone to add colour to our dull life. A genuine love who is willing to go beyond what is seen by naked eye, and hear us crying,
“Help, please lend me a hand”
Sadly, no one seems to be sincere enough to reach us because apparently, living out of the comfort zone and involving one’s self to a huge problem are never a man’s priorities. How narcissistic are a lot of creatures nowadays!
Time will come when our temporary smiles would be permanent. And yes, no one would know because they choose to be blinded with what is really going on. Like cancer cells, our extreme sadness would mutilate and later on fill our poor sanity. Our lives would revolve solely to us, because we are destined to be alone, don’t we? We wouldn’t feel the presence of our loved ones anymore and such ache would kindle our negative thoughts as it kill our hopes. We are then aimless. No reason to continue furthermore. When that day come, the only thing that remain in us is our broken soul that demands to be gone soon.
I thought about ending my life for a number of times via various ways. During those situations, one question kept on bothering me. Would anybody remember me? Would they regret for being one of the reasons of my death? Would I be missed? I hope so. I hope they would. I hope they could take an action now before this thing inside my head does a tragic scene.
So please, give us a little of your concern because this depression might kill us soon.
– Joshua Oledan
© Deadpoet
Humanist Talk 