People make jokes, people think its ok to make jokes about what happened, because you sometimes do. You make jokes because you have to laugh to keep from crying, you have to joke because otherwise it all just seems too real. Then they assume they can too, and you don't want to tell them to stop because you don't want to upset them. I watched her listen to these jokes, I watched her break apart piece by piece each time, but she never picked herself up and told them to stop because she didn't want to piss them off. She didn't want to lose them like she lost her.
People often call me a people pleaser. They tell me that I tell people what they want to hear. I do, sometimes, but it's for their own good, right? If I told them what I really thought, I'd upset them. What's weird is I normally felt fine telling people what I really thought, I normally had a 'tell-it-how-it-is' attitude, but when she left, it seemed to fade like the sun as it sets. I stopped telling people what I thought. I stopped telling the truth, and instead just put on a mask and lied.
#
I sat there, outside of myself, watching myself tell lie after lie and I just had to accept it because there was nothing I could do. I had to just let myself do it because it was better than telling the truth. Better than telling people what was really going on.
I was often asked how things were at home, they were good, there was nothing wrong there. I was lucky in a sense because I live in a healthy household and it's safe here. But people thought that that was what was going on, when really it was the furthest thing from it.
YOU ARE READING
The Girl With The Mask
General FictionIt's a story of a girl struggling with depression and how she lives every day outside her own body watching herself hopelessly fighting her battles.
