Til it happens to you

You tell me hold your head up
Hold your head up and be strong
Cause when you fall you gotta get up
You gotta get up and move on

Tell me how the hell could you talk,
How could you talk
Losing till you walk where I walk,
This is no joke

Till your world burns and crashes
Till you’re at the end, the end of your rope
Till you’re standing in my shoes
I don’t wanna hear a thing or two from you, from you, from you

Till it happens to you
You don’t know how I feel, how I feel, how I feel
Until it happens to you, you won’t know, it won’t be real
No it won’t real
I know how it feels
Till it happens you
Happens to you
Happens to you
Happens to you
Happens to you
Till it happens to you

~ Lady Gaga

( P.S. I don’t really like her, she’s kinda crazy but then again so am I, but this song is absolutely perfect for people that DO know what its like.)
I’m scared. I worried about the past dictating my future. Read the statics. They aren’t good. They pretty much say that I’ll be mentally ill for the rest of my life. The strong can only be strong for so long. You get built up again only to be torn down. I can only get up so many times before I just decide to lay there and to take it. I got up last time. It still hurts. I still have bruises. I still bleed on some days. None of this is fair to me. I don’t understand why this happened. I am no longer mad about it; I’m just hurt and numb.

The strong can only be strong for so long. You get built up again only to be torn down. I can only get up so many times before I just decide to lay there and to take it. I got up last time. It still hurts. I still have bruises. I still bleed on somedays.   You open up to people and confine in them with total confidence and trust. Its no ones business but mine and person I choose to confide in. I don’t even think that I can trust myself. I don’t know how. Trust was ripped away from me at such a young age, and then when you try to trust again bad shit happens.

I take full responsibility for what happened. It was my fault. Hell, even one of my own family members told me that it was my fault. Its a dark and lonely place to be. I’m not scared of lonely whatsoever. Its probably the safest thing for me. I want out. I need out. I cant take this anymore. I worry about running into their family members if I’m in Wal-Mart or a football game or a restaurant. I can’t live in a town where everyone thinks they know everything about what happened. I feel like people look at me as a crazy slut.

I don’t know what is next for me. I wanna curl up and hide, but then again I cant because I have to know what is being said as my name gets flung thru the mud. Its a sad, sad place here. I don’t even know what to call it. Its not depression, anxiety or bipolar. Its just me. Its just who I am. I’m sure that all those things have played a role in it, but this is me. This is who I am. I don’t like me. I don’t like what I’ve done. I am mad at myself.

Mental illness is not something to mess around with. People that have it are ashamed. They all want to just be normal. They don’t want to have to fight everyday just to get up in the mornings. Its not like a broken bone, or a cut on your leg. They begin to heal and you don’t thing about them anymore, But your mind? You cant get away from that. I know exactly what its like to be scared of your own mind. It is a disease.  A lot of people put a stigma on us. Its not right. Physical pain eventually ends. Mental  pain? I’m not sure that it ever does. There will always be that little part of you that can’t do it.

I used to be confident. Things that I grew up doing I’m too scared to do now. I’m scared of my shadow it seems like. I’m scared to lope around a horse, to talk, to open up. Quite honestly I think I’m scared of living; and I’m not sure I know how to change that. Maybe people like me know something that you all don’t know.

You don’t know what its like; until it happens to you. So please forgive me when I say fuck all yall that run your mouths, and probably more importantly, telling people MY story when it is not yours to tell. If I wanted them to know they would know.. If you don’t know then its probably because its none ya business, and because I think by telling you it will lead to judgment, hurt, and backstabbing. I have tried that road one too many times. Yes, I do need help, but I am not going to ask for it. And I am not going to take it because people pity me. You don’t know what its like; until it happens to you.

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