P.o.v. Scott.
I walked out of the bathroom after styling my hair, for 10 minutes to just end up putting one of my beanies on. I actually felt a little confident today, or maybe that was just an act? A mental act, my way of coping I guess, pretending to be confident and happy so that maybe it will all become true. I put on a few sprays of cologne and then stared at myself in the mirror, as if I really wanted to live. The truth is, I'm dying inside, I hate myself... I hate myself so much that just the thought of myself makes me want to cut. Makes me want to just end it all. End my thoughts and my dreams, everything gone. Completely gone, nothing left. I stared with hatred at my reflection, who am I? I almost said it out loud, as if to ask the world. I swallowed long and hard, thinking about all the reasons I'm here. All the reasons I hate myself, and hate being here, there anywhere. I looked up not realizing how long I had been staring at the ground, I wanted to stare at myself. Make myself believe the things everyone always said to me growing up, the thoughts ran through my head. Prying at my heart trying to make me give up. Make me want to use the blade I hide in my phone case, make me want to stay in bed all day, make me want to give up and just live the life I've always hated. Live the life I never wanted, but somehow always needed. I stared at my eyes, seeing the pain the tears threatening to fall. Threatening to change my mind, telling me to stop being such a baby. Such a girl. I reminisced back to a few years back, my mom had just found out about my depression.... she asked why I had to change why I couldn't be the same old me, her son. That's the day I walked away, and I never looked back. Never asked why again, never asked why she hated me agin, never asked why I wasn't good enough. I got sick hearing about how much of a failure I am, and was. Got sick and tired of hearing my mom and dad continually tell me about how much of a girl I was. And from that day on I promised myself I was going to be good enough, and I was going to be as boyish as I possibly could. And every time I look in the mirror, I'm reminded that it doesn't matter how hard I try to change myself it will never happen, and I shouldn't have to change myself. Shouldn't have to feel guilty for eating, for crying. For being myself, and I refuse to be defined by the way I look. I looked at my outfit now, long sleeved turquoise hoodie, and light colored skinny jeans, with combat boots and my black beanie. I wiped a tear from my face and then walked down stairs into the living room, where I found Tori sleeping softly on the couch, broad city playing from the tv. I smiled at her, kissed her forehead and walked out the door. Idk where I was going, but I had to go somewhere, anywhere.
