You taught me that what I want isn’t important. That what everyone else wants should always be first. I feel selfish for caring about my own mental health when there are dozens of people that I could try to help. You taught me that prioritising my mental and physical health is wrong. You taught me that if somebody wants me to be this way that I must.
Yet you tell me to be an individual. To take my own path.
Every time I try you shoot me down, saying that I’m not respecting your wishes. That what I’m doing to be happy is disrespectful to you. To those I love. When I make my own decisions you call me a trender, that I’m just doing what everyone else is doing and you make me feel small. You make me believe the way I feel isn’t important, that the way I feel is wrong, I feel this way because someone told me I did.
You tell me to stay in line, do as I’m told, yet go my own way, be my own person. I’m stuck in the middle of an intersection. Do I got left or do I go right? The left may seem like the better path for me, but if I take this path is it the best for you, is it what you want? You tell me to go right, to go down the path that will more than likely hurt me and break me. When I express my worry of this path you throw it aside, silencing my already so quiet voice.
I’m afraid to move, to make a decision. Although I see the most logical path I’m afraid that you will scold me for choosing what I want rather than what you want. You get frustrated when I don’t pick a path, but even more so when I pick the one you didn’t like.
Who cares if I’mhappy, as long as you’rehappy. As long as you get what you want, when you want it. As long as you’re at the wheel, forcing me on a journey I shouldn’t be on.
I’m so confused. I’d assume you’d want the best for me but it seems you want what’s best you. I thought you’d want me to be happy, that seeing my joy would bring you happiness. But I was wrong.
You have stolen every decision that was meant to be mine. Every bit of individuality taken. I cannot be diverse. I must be one way and one way only. Your way.
You make me feel like giving up. You say you see so much, that you pay attention but you see so little. You see the surface. You’re too scared to dive any deeper. I express myself as freely as you’ll allow, but even sometimes you yell and ask me how I could be like this.
You blind yourself often. You know nothing of the pain your hate has caused. You see what I show you, and I’ve shown you nothing. Maybe if you tried to learn, tried to see where I stand, things would be different. If you’d only educate yourself, try to see where my passion comes from, you’d understand. But you don’t, and it makes things hard.
And to be honest, I’m absolutely terrified of you. I try so hard not flinch when you raise your hand, when you get to close, when you say you’re only joking. I laugh it off so that you don’t yell at me for being weak. You’ve never touched me but I’m scared that one day you’ll snap. Everyday I come home and do everything I can so that you won’t yell. You do strange things when you’re mad. And then you ask why I’m still upset over it. You wonder why I have hid my emotions for years. Because when I was open with you, you told me that it was all in my head, that I’m just making it up. But I’m not, I’m trying so hard to make you understand, to help you see how much pain you’ve put me in. One day, you’ll lose me and it will be your fault. Because in reality, you’ve never had me to begin with.