It's Fine, You'll be Okay, Stop Crying

Here I am again. 

Here. 

The tears come running down my cheeks as I lie in my bed. "God" I said, "Not this again." 

Everyone else in the house is already asleep. The air is cold and dry, and the world is quiet. For a moment it feels like I'm alone, like I'm inside a bubble where no one can enter; and that might just be it.

The thoughts come flooding back to me. How much of a screw-up I am. The failures I did. The chances I wasted. The world which has been cruel to me constantly, putting a ring on my collar that chokes me the more I try to escape its hold. 

There's no escaping this. The thoughts come harder...letting my voice escape from my lips. I want to  wake everyone up. I want to say how weak and broken I feel. I want everyone to know how much pain I am in. But I don't.

I rush downstairs not even turning on any light, for fear that I would wake someone up. The tears go on and I sit at a corner where I continued to cry. On and on. Alone in the dark. 

People praise me for all that I can do. People rely on me. The world, though cruel, expects me to pay it back with good things. I have been beaten down and wounded, yet I am never allowed to show weakness. I am not allowed to lower my defenses. I am not allowed to say that I think of these things that others don't...of death.

A million ways of how to end my own life.

I think of how I could hang myself. How I could get hit by a truck. How I could jump off of a bridge. How I could overdose myself with drugs. Drown. Stab. Poison. I am not allowed to speak of any of these. 

All I can do is smile. To show that I am okay. Not the version of me who curls down in a corner at 3:00 in the morning. Not the guy who tells himself to stop crying. Not this. This is not what the world wants to see.

"It's fine."

"You'll be okay."

"Stop crying."

I've memorized these three lines because they help. I don't call anyone, because no one will understand. I've tried telling this to people close to me. I told them how I thought of letting the Church bells ring for me at last, with a casket covering me. Yet they never took it seriously. I tried talking to people about this pain, of the spiral that only continues to suck me in...but they don't understand. They don't. Because no one can understand darkness. 

"It's fine."

"You'll be okay."

"Stop crying."

In the morning, when the world starts moving again I need to place my mask again. I need to be the me, which everyone expects. I need to hold my head up high, I need to raise my defenses, I need to be strong, I need to hide my wounds. I need to "grow up" whatever the hell that might mean. But right now I need to stop these tears from falling.

"It's fine."

"You'll be okay."

"Stop crying."

In the end I am just alone. No one is actually there to comfort me. In my worst state, where everything is messed up, all I can rely on is myself. All I have is myself. No peers, no friends, no family, no love, just me. All I have is me. So I repeat my chant again and again hoping that it would save me. hoping that the darkness will not consume me. Hoping that I will not find myself standing at the edge of a cliff, or a knife in my hand, or pills in my mouth, or water in my lungs. Hoping that I could live another day and fight another fight. 

"It's fine."

"You'll be okay."

"Stop crying."