It can’t hurt that much…

I really wish people would stop throwing problems out there for reactions. It seems these days everyone has some deep dark secret that leaves them suicidal and self loathing but not so suicidal and self loathing that they can’t share it with the world.

I’ve seen it time and time again. Groups of people sitting around bitching about their lives, trying to out do each other. Someone’s step-dad hid their hair straightener, some whore is calling them a slut, their boyfriend/girlfriend hates them because one boob/ball is bigger than the other. You’re depressed, you’re suicidal, you can’t eat infront of people, you want us to bow down to you and your horrible life because you are superior. Then they all turn to me, waiting for me to join in. I say nothing, my life is perfect. I say “Poor you” and give them a shoulder to cry on.

Maybe its wrong of me, infact it is wrong of me, but I find it hard to believe these people when they’re talking about all their problems (that apparently near disable them) with just about anyone who’ll listen. Obviously people cope diffrently but it just seems kind of…obnoxious. This is probably why I dislike people so very much. Its very hard to see the good in people when you think they’re getting joy out of being miserable.

Or maybe I’m even a little jealous that I’m not able to just stand on a podium and declare everything thats wrong with me. I’m not saying my problems are worse than anyone elses but they are to me because my problem affect me. Its very sad if you can’t eat infront of people, I’m sorry for you but that doesn’t affect me and the way I live my life and frankly I have other things to thinks about.

If I stood on the podium what would I say? “Hi, I have an eating disorder, I’m clinically depressed, I have social anxiety, in the last 3 years I’ve tried to kill myself 2 times, I cut myself, I cry over little things like glasses breaking but when I find out my grandma is dying- nothing, I have perfected the art of regurgitation, I can eat more calories in a day than you can in a week but I can also make a days worth of calories spread out over a week, in my life I’ve lived in at least 12 houses, my dad- where ever he is -is a drug addict, and for what ever reason I’ve blocked out large chunks of my life, like the supposed 2 years my Mum spent crying but hey, seriously, I’m really sorry everyone calls you a slut.”

There are other things too that I didn’t put there for fear someone I actually know will find this blog. There are things in my life that I know happened but deny it, I deny things to myself that I literally will never talk about, I won’t even write it down because it didn’t happen but it haunts me all the same.

Maybe I don’t tell people because I know that these aren’t things that words can fix. A 40 minute lunch break at school is not going to make everything okay, a 17 year old can not council me. The best they can do is try and soothe me by comparing my problems to one of there’s and from what they’ve already shared I really don’t think they have anything thats going to come up to par.

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