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From the time that I could remember I’ve always picked myself up when I felt low. Sometimes I feel like I’m the weakest person in a room or that I am so mentally unstable because of which I am what I am today , broken and dumb and a disappointment. But then I think of all those times when I, alone, dragged myself from that dark room by all means possible and I would get back on my feet. Its never easy and only the strongest of people can do that. AND I. AM. STRONG. (don’t let anyone let otherwise - note to self).
People always say how we should talk to other people. They say 'I’m here for you ’ and ‘talk to me’. But most of the time I never do. I always try not to talk about my problems to other people (also here problems means the stuff that’s way bigger than you think). And the reason I do that, which according to many isn’t healthy, is because they never understand. I spent a lot of my energy talking and explaining the reason of my messed up mental health just so they can say ‘I understand’ or ‘it’s okay it’ll get better’ or some advice that I obviously thought about before. I mean I get it, they are helping me, they are putting the effort of listening to me and they don’t have an ulterior motive other than to help me, yes. But I’d much rather just talk to myself in the mirror, because at the end of the day only I know me. Unless my friends are professional counsellors or something. Then yes I’d spend money to talk about my problems because they can help. But other than that I always try not to spend my energy on them. This is probably why I don’t have much friends.
See, I have friends. I wouldn’t say I was popular in school but they all liked me. But somewhere along the way I started pushing them all away I guess.
My mom always used to say I don’t know how to choose friends and that I choose the worst friends always. My mom used to say a lot of things to be honest and they’re true but they hurt. If I get into that detail then this wouldn’t end here. I’d be writing a 200 page book about the problem I have with my mom and my family. I think its like this everywhere. Every brown household. The rebellious daughter and her even more rebellious mother (imagine the chaos). Leaving that to some other time to discuss.
But basically, all I want to say is, it’s not easy being alone, but after 19 years of my life if there’s one thing I learned it’s that being alone with yourself is so much better than being with people. I don’t trust people. The moral of my story.


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