When We Fall

s e v e n t e e n

.17 | saige
-not edited-

SUFFERING IN SILENCE is easier than trying to get help.

I know they mean well, I really do. And I appreciate it, them trying to help means more to me than they could imagine, and knowing that I have people in my corner makes all the difference.

Fuck, it's so formal. I rip the page out, crumpling it up and tossing it in the pink trashcan next to my desk.

I put my pen down, pausing as I stare out the window. My therapist suggested starting a journal again, when I explained to her everything that's been happening recently. So that's what I'm doing, journaling. I don't like to share my thoughts with people, not even my therapist knows the half of what's going through my head, but maybe this little blue notebook will.

It can't tell my secrets, right? There's no way this little blue notebook filled with lined pages that I'll hide away in the drawer next to my bed could open it's little make-believe mouth and spill my every thought to the world.

Absolutely not. It's impossible.

Which means for the first time in my life, I can put every little random thought out of my head, and begin to separate and organize them. My therapist calls it a new "tactic for the war I fight" as I say. A new weapon. Untangling the mess that's in my head. So here goes nothing:

"Dear diary/journal/notebook/this is stupid,

Suffering in silence is easier than trying to make everyone think that their endless efforts to help are working. I've learned that quickly over the years, and in some ways, they're one in the same.

When people know about your problems, they usually want to help. As they should. Honestly if somebody heard problems like mine and didn't want to help, it'd probably be best to get them out of my life immediately, but hey I've never been one to pay attention to the red flags.

Anyways, when people try to help, I have to pretend they can help, so their hopeless efforts don't make everything seem worse. But if they think they're helping and the problems aren't as bad as they were, then they'll slowly forget. Better yet, if they don't know about the problems, it doesn't affect them.

I can solve my problems in silence. I think it's easier that way. Then, no matter how much I'm suffering, it stays my problem and nobody else has to see the bad sides. They get the good sides of me, and nobody else's life is weighed down by my weight.

Sometimes it's hard to keep it in the dark, but I do my best, and I've become shockingly good at hiding it. Anyways, kind of a weird little rant, but necessary to begin at this point in my life right now.

They know.

Well, he knows. Cas. Cas knows about all of it. And I can't take it back, because the girls said I had to tell him or they would. I knew it was time he found out, or he would've tried to figure it out.

But Cas is a protector, a fixer. It's what he does. He's not going to understand the fact that he can't fix me. He can't protect me from my own mind. So it's my turn to be the protector. I need to protect him from my darkness, protect his light from being tainted by me, like I've done to everyone else in my life.

Now begins the greatest performance of my life, the one where I make them all believe it was a fluke, and everyone is great. Like it should be.