Living in fiction

I’ve never thought I’d be a good writer for fiction. Not that I’ve tried and failed, I just didn’t think I’d make it big in fiction. And there goes another self-pity moment. Haha.

I’ve never written anything fictional tho, I made it happen… Sorta.

For years, I’ve been making everybody believe what I say, what I show. And it began all because of one incident that made me put all the pain in the unconscious part of my whole being. I learned about that in Psychology about a year ago. It said that when one goes through trauma, the brain automatically sets it aside in the unconscious part, bit by bit, for the person to forget that it even happened. I don’t really know if my definition is right, but that’s how I understood it.

Five and a half years ago, I didn’t know what I was doing. I was in the rebellion-experimental teenage phase. I sought change. I never wanted to be consistent – this being said in general. I never wanted the same hairstyle for more than a few months. I never used the same school bag for days. I never wore the same shoes straight. I never went with the same group of friends. Not until I reached my senior year. And that’s where this madness all began.

Going into new relationships are always scary. Specially if you never really knew the person well before you got together. Doubts were always there, and as part of being a teen, bragging was also there. Couples I knew always bragged about how he gave her a gift on their first month, how he took her out on a date and it was so special, how she introduced him to her parents and they liked him (not that I have an issue with my parents), or just simply how they text one another whether in class or not. I’m honestly a very insecure person.. Well who isn’t? And as part of my tremendously growing insecurity about a lot of things, my fictional love story came to be.

The fiction I’m referring to isn’t exaggerated. It’s just the little things that I covered up by fantasies, that unfortunately grew bigger and bigger, until I couldn’t control it anymore. I get disappointed all the time, I get upset, and with little compromise, I come up with something very far from what happened all in my head, and I choose to live with it.

I have never been cheated on before. Before I got into this relationship. I’ve never felt pain that feels endless, specially when I’m alone at night. Everything was brand new. It was like coming to a foreign land where I didn’t know anything, and I needed to go through fire to learn. I never knew him before the first conversation we had. We were classmates, sure. But I was never really friends with him. I only found out about him through my friends, who knew him from when they were younger. That became the tricky part. I never knew who to believe. Friends who knew him since God knows when, or him, who has just entered my life and would still be showing me who he is. He was always the quiet one, telling nobody what’s going on in his mind, and I was always outspoken. Complete opposites, everyone said.

It was a mixture of confusion, fear and bliss.

But then again, I was in the experimental phase of my life, so I gave it a go. He seemed like such a charming person, and even before we were together, he had promised me things, and he made me feel like nobody else has ever done my entire life. I guess that was one of the biggest signs I took. I never knew he would be the last, I never even imagined having to start a family with him. I never thought he deserved it.

Half a year into the relationship, I was happy. I knew I was, because I was worry-free. I didn’t mind anything, and we never argued. He was just as sweet as when I met him. Taking the selfish side of the story, I’m the type of person who needs that kind of attention. I feel abandoned every time I’m not prioritized, and I know that’s not a good thing, but someone has to live with it. A few more months later, strange things started happening, and I felt more confusion than ever. It was that kind of trauma, wherein you wouldn’t wanna go out in public for a while, just because you’re hurt. That kind of pain where you just wanna curl up in bed, and do nothing.

The pain never ended. It kept on coming back. There were days I thought I’ve forgotten, but everything comes back, and everything seemed fresh again.

The first time was truly painful, and it was recurring. It became habitual, that I felt trashed, and I felt worthless. People tell me I’d go far. I’ve got a bit of talent, sensible issues, wit, and charm. People always told me anybody who would be my other half will be the luckiest person in the world. I felt the opposite. I never felt beautiful, I never felt appreciated, all when this was happening. But I held on. I have been holding on so long for me to let go.

These series of events made me sadder as the days went by. And I still didn’t want to let go, because I believed in him.

There were days when I laughed my heart out in school with friends, but when I came home at night, a black hole of depression sucked me in. No difference to what I’m feeling now, and it happened so often, it became a routine. I already expected the thoughts and the tears whenever I was idle.

But nobody saw that. Nobody saw what was happening to me, because it was too far from what I show when I’m not alone. I never told anyone, not even the closest of friends I had. To them, I was happy. I didn’t have problems, and everybody wanted their lives to be like mine. Everybody envied the life I was living. Or so they thought.

Fiction, indeed.

Every waking moment was terrible. But I had to hide it. I never wanted anybody to feel pity for me. I never needed that, as I was feeling it myself. I always get compliments from random people, but I never really felt it. Because the person who I wanted to notice me, never did.

Everything was made up in my mind, and I was living in a world where nobody hurt me. I never wanted to leave that place, but I had to.

I was missing out on everything. I didn’t see how much my life was falling apart because of that. And that little world I created, had my expectations set, and I grew more upset every single time people failed to meet them. I was one big stressed out wreck.

I show everyone how happy I am, when all this time that was how happy I wanted to be. I’ve been faking smiles and laughs so much, I don’t even know how it feels like to really be happy.

Recent events made me realize these. Because I’ve stepped out of my own comfort zone, and yes, I got hurt more than ever. I grew to be a jealous, paranoid girlfriend, and I know nobody wants that. But who could blame me. After a series of recurring incidents, what was I to do?

Today, I felt like letting this out. I couldn’t have possibly kept it in much longer. I have been in and out of the suicidal stages of depression, and all that I went through, on my own. I always wanted someone to be with me, but nobody was. I felt alone. I felt like nobody was ever there for me. Nobody listened. Nobody cared.

Pain changes people. It surely changed me.

And until this very moment, I still feel stings from remembering everything. Everything that ever happened and caused me pain. Everything that ever made me shed tears. I’m not as strong as anybody thinks I am. I give in to my depression and let it take over me. I don’t need doctors, I don’t need medication. I just need someone to be there for me when I need them most. I just need to feel the love I was missing out on for so many years.

Promises will always be broken. Faith will always be judged. But giving chances would never do you harm.

I’ve learned that helping someone change feels good, not because you made one change, but because you were the reason for it.

Again, expectations are set, and I am more than prepared for disappointment. But who cares? No pain, no gain. And people do change. It would take time, but if you give up on someone, how could they ever learn what went wrong? How could you ever feel satisfaction from what you’ve started?

Sometimes, pain would be unbearable, but outcomes would be worth it. You just need someone to help you get through the rough times.

And I hope this time, I finally let go of my little world, and start feeling better for real.

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