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Eternal Paradox.

Posted by on 2018/03/11 under Life

Why am I like this? Here I go again with the questions to which I have answers. I want to tell them what's wrong but I'm so scared of what I know will inevitably happen. My sadness will drive them away, it has done it to others close to me, on a much smaller scale, but I can't afford it happening to this person; their presence in my life is the only thing keeping me alive.

I made myself dependent on them, something I swore I would never do. I couldn't help it, my other escapes were fading, those escapes no longer took me away from this agonising reality. Then they appear and they are my new addiction, as long as I am with them the corruption claiming my mind and soul burns a little less.

We promised no secrets, and I obliged, I told them about the other me, I told them about the abuse and the unspeakable event too, I was as gullible as always and placed my entire trust in them – and still do. They are all I have and they still support me.

My anxiety eagerly awaits the moment it all comes crashing down so it can chuckle, rub its hands together and hiss "I told you so". I know it will happen, it always does, no one wants to be around someone as toxic and unbearable as I; self pitying, self degrading moron.

My sadness, it drives people away. Every time is the same and it always happens. Now I'm trying to change, I have been for a long time, but now I have more secrets too. I wouldn't accept the truth before, so it was never a secret I held if it never existed in the first place. That's why I didn't tell them when we poured our hearts out to each other.

I have accepted it. I can't ignore it any longer. It is making me a danger to myself – more so than before. I don't want to drive them away, but I don't want to keep secrets. They keep nothing from me so why should I betray them?

But if they knew they would be discouraged; driven away. Surround yourself with positivity and good people, not illnesses like me. If they knew then I would make them my scapegoat, no matter how hard I would try not to.

It is because they don't know the secrets that I must keep up the facade; 'yes I am happy', 'yes I am well'. My smiling, innocent, wistful facade that they know and love – that everyone associates as 'me'. If they knew the truth then I would give myself an excuse to drop said facade, forcing myself to be well and happy is all that is keeping up the delusion that I am – the truth only comes to bite at me occasionally and that I can handle.

If I tell them, I will only sink further into this abyss that I have been climbing from for years. But they should know. I would be selfish to tell them, it would mean I am choosing the escape by throwing my problems onto them…

But I really need the help. Fighting alone has become harder than ever. Even my body has begun to give up. I am weak.

Parasitic weakling.



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