Perfection

5/30/2013

It’s not okay. I can lie to you and tell you everything that you want to hear, I’m actually really good at that.  Practice makes perfect I guess.  I’m pretty sure that I learned that skill in early childhood, somewhere around when I learned to talk.  I always know what you want me to say.  “It’s okay.” It’s such a short simple statement, and such a lie.  Someone please give me the freedom to be honest.

            I know that if I’m going to be truthful I will have to give you small manageable pieces, and even those you tend to ignore after what you think is a decent interval.  Let me just tell you, I am a depressed, suicidal, cutter of many years, with an early eating disorder, and a mental illness. It’s not okay.  I can’t keep bearing the weight of your expectations, just let me be.  When I don’t see you for months it’s not because I don’t love you, it’s because I know you can’t handle seeing me this way.  It takes so much for me to keep pretending. I can do, but it’s killing me.

Two suicide attempts in the last month and a half and you still aren’t taking this seriously.  You still seem to think that I’m “just acting out.”  No. I’m hurting so badly that I don’t see any way out, and instead of loving me no matter what you blame me.  You caused a lot of this and you have ignored it until things got too bad and there was too much blood to ignore.  How much blood do I have to lose for you to notice?  Eventually I’m going to run out of blood.  You seem scared to death of losing me, but all you do is hold me tighter, and invalidate me further.  I’m sinking, I’m drowning, I’m scared and you aren’t saving me. Maybe I’m asking too much of you., but I won’t live through the next attempt