PHZummerSoltice
Forum Master
This is a open letter para sa mga taong mahal natin na di natin maopen up yung mga sarili natin dahil sa depression:
I know somethingās wrong!I want to help! I love you! Why canāt you open up to me?ā
Because Iām ashamed at how weak I feel.
Because if I expose that weakness to you, you might end up ashamed of me, too.
Because the last thing I ever want to do is be a weight around your neck.
Because you have your own problems, and your own life to live.
Because it might change the way you see me.
Because it might make you want to treat me with kid gloves, to tiptoe around me because you think I might shatter.
Because you might go the opposite route and decide itās time for some ātough love.ā
Because if I hear the words, āthere are other people out there a lot worse off than you,ā I probably will shatter. Iām aware. Thatās part of the problem.
Because Iāve been here before, and Iāll probably be here again. It exhausts the hell out of me. I can only imagine what it would do to you.
Because Iām terrified youāll blame yourself, when absolutely none of how Iām feeling is your fault.
Because I love you.
Because I want you to keep loving me.
Because I have an illness that convinces me thatās exactly what will end up happening, no matter how much you say otherwise.
I wish I could make you understand. The person you see from the outside doesnāt remotely resemble who Iām seeing on the inside. That person is weak. That person is self-destructive. That person makes all the wrong decisions, and worst of all knows it. That person is set to fall, and Iāll be damned if heās going to take anyone I love along for the ride.
Thatās why I work so damn hard to hide it. Why I get so upset when the mask slips and you get a glimpse of whatās really going on. Why I get angry and lash out when it does, or worse, pull away and collapse into myself. Itās because Iām afraid. Terrified. Terrified that if you see the real me, then it will all be over. Youāll wash your hands of me and go find someone who isnāt broken to spend your time with. Someone who doesnāt take as much work. Someone who wonāt drain the life out of you.
I know your love isnāt that fickle. I know you arenāt the type to just walk away. I know it.
The problem is, I canāt feel it, and because I canāt feel it, I canāt trust it.
Thatās why the depression tends to win. It doesnāt matter how many voices I hear from the outside telling me Iām worthwhile, that Iām loved, that theyāll never turn their backs on me, thereās always that voice on the inside that tells me thatās a lie. It doesnāt matter that I know it doesnāt make any sense. That voice is the one I can never escape from, and if I donāt have you to drown it out every now and then, Iāll be alone with it.
I canāt take that chance. I canāt risk driving you away, which is exactly what I feel Iāll end up doing. So what the hell am I supposed to do?
Open up to someone. Understand though, it might not be you. Not at first. Itās easier to talk to a stranger. I donāt care about disappointing a stranger. If a stranger upsets me, I can walk away. Not the healthiest choice, but still an option. A stranger has no preconceived notions. A stranger can be honest with me. A stranger has probably dealt with quite a few other people like me, which in a way helps because it forces me to realize Iām not the only person living with this.
Plus, not to be completely cynical, but if Iām paying for help, itās less likely to give up on me.
Iāll open up to stranger, because Iām praying that, in the end, that will help me open up to you. It wonāt be easy; it will be terrifying, which is why Iāll have to do it on my schedule, on my terms. Itās the only way Iāll feel safe doing so. Iām hoping you can understand that, because even though I may not be able to open up to you about how Iām feeling, that doesnāt mean youāre not helping. You are, in more ways than you know.
Youāre whatās keeping me fighting, and no stranger can replace you.
I know somethingās wrong!I want to help! I love you! Why canāt you open up to me?ā
Because Iām ashamed at how weak I feel.
Because if I expose that weakness to you, you might end up ashamed of me, too.
Because the last thing I ever want to do is be a weight around your neck.
Because you have your own problems, and your own life to live.
Because it might change the way you see me.
Because it might make you want to treat me with kid gloves, to tiptoe around me because you think I might shatter.
Because you might go the opposite route and decide itās time for some ātough love.ā
Because if I hear the words, āthere are other people out there a lot worse off than you,ā I probably will shatter. Iām aware. Thatās part of the problem.
Because Iāve been here before, and Iāll probably be here again. It exhausts the hell out of me. I can only imagine what it would do to you.
Because Iām terrified youāll blame yourself, when absolutely none of how Iām feeling is your fault.
Because I love you.
Because I want you to keep loving me.
Because I have an illness that convinces me thatās exactly what will end up happening, no matter how much you say otherwise.
I wish I could make you understand. The person you see from the outside doesnāt remotely resemble who Iām seeing on the inside. That person is weak. That person is self-destructive. That person makes all the wrong decisions, and worst of all knows it. That person is set to fall, and Iāll be damned if heās going to take anyone I love along for the ride.
Thatās why I work so damn hard to hide it. Why I get so upset when the mask slips and you get a glimpse of whatās really going on. Why I get angry and lash out when it does, or worse, pull away and collapse into myself. Itās because Iām afraid. Terrified. Terrified that if you see the real me, then it will all be over. Youāll wash your hands of me and go find someone who isnāt broken to spend your time with. Someone who doesnāt take as much work. Someone who wonāt drain the life out of you.
I know your love isnāt that fickle. I know you arenāt the type to just walk away. I know it.
The problem is, I canāt feel it, and because I canāt feel it, I canāt trust it.
Thatās why the depression tends to win. It doesnāt matter how many voices I hear from the outside telling me Iām worthwhile, that Iām loved, that theyāll never turn their backs on me, thereās always that voice on the inside that tells me thatās a lie. It doesnāt matter that I know it doesnāt make any sense. That voice is the one I can never escape from, and if I donāt have you to drown it out every now and then, Iāll be alone with it.
I canāt take that chance. I canāt risk driving you away, which is exactly what I feel Iāll end up doing. So what the hell am I supposed to do?
Open up to someone. Understand though, it might not be you. Not at first. Itās easier to talk to a stranger. I donāt care about disappointing a stranger. If a stranger upsets me, I can walk away. Not the healthiest choice, but still an option. A stranger has no preconceived notions. A stranger can be honest with me. A stranger has probably dealt with quite a few other people like me, which in a way helps because it forces me to realize Iām not the only person living with this.
Plus, not to be completely cynical, but if Iām paying for help, itās less likely to give up on me.
Iāll open up to stranger, because Iām praying that, in the end, that will help me open up to you. It wonāt be easy; it will be terrifying, which is why Iāll have to do it on my schedule, on my terms. Itās the only way Iāll feel safe doing so. Iām hoping you can understand that, because even though I may not be able to open up to you about how Iām feeling, that doesnāt mean youāre not helping. You are, in more ways than you know.
Youāre whatās keeping me fighting, and no stranger can replace you.