Hypocrisy (Austlan Cashby)

Chapter 18

Hypocrisy- hy·poc·ri·sy

the practice of claiming to have moral standards or beliefs to which one's own behavior does not conform; pretense.

We're all become hypocrites when we are trying to hide something. We are humans, being a hypocrite is in our blood. We can bash on someone for doing something, then go home and do it ourselves. It's a terrible act, but I can't say that I haven't done it.

Austin makes me a huge hypocrite. I can see his cuts and tell him to never do it again. I can list seven hundred reasons why he should never do it again and why I don't want him to do it again. And after all that, slice my own skin that night. Maybe it's the thinking I do when I'm alone. The "i fuck everything up and this is why" thoughts. But, when it comes to other people, I turn into a fucking therapist to keep them happy. Then, I can't follow my words of advice. I can make someone change the way they look at theirselves, but the way I look at myself remains the same.

It's different when it comes to myself. Maybe it's because I feel selfish for doing something on my own, if that makes sense. If someone told me to change my life and gave me instructions to do it, if try it out. After all, it's what appeared to help them. Or at least it's coming from them, they made up those steps or got them from somewhere, i didn't.

And that makes all the difference. It could be the self hatred I've gained over the years. Like, I'm my own enemy. You wouldn't take instructions from your enemy, would you? I'd shout from the top of my lungs for Austin to love himself, but still see myself as a pathetic excuse for a human being. The way that I talk makes people think I'm okay, but if they got in my mind, they'd be I'm tears.

When people admit they're sad, I get the feeling that I need to help them. This comes from the experiences of when I was feeling the same way with no one to help me. It's not sympathy, it's being understanding. I can help anyone who has a problem being sad. Anyone who needs help and is going through anything I am of have gone through. It helps me give good advice because I've been through it. I can tell stuff from experience.

If anyone asked me how to scuba dive or some shit, I couldn't give advice. We're humans and are only going to give the best advice if we understand it ourselves. That's why therapist always seemed useless to me. I'm going to open up to you and you're going to give me information read out of a book. It's worthless, fake. I know I am going to get through this, and I can do it on my own. After all, in the end all I have is myself.

I've always wanted to be a therapist, but as life moves on I see why I can't be one. When people bring up a touch subject, such as depression and things involving it, I shut down. I tend to stutter and not make any sense. Resulting in me not helping them. Also, they might get better and I'd be attracted to them by then. They wouldn't need me anymore and it'd make me see what I really was, just a problem solver.

Over the years I've been getting to know myself. I can now understand that I get attached too easily. This is a huge problem. It leads to being broken over and over. So, before Austin showed up, I would shut everyone out due to pure paranoia. Now, I find myself being more lenient with things like this, and I'm getting scared all over again. Shouldn't I have every reason to be? I grew up teaching myself to shut everyone out, and now that things have changed, everything has changed. It's like learning to pronounce a word one way and them later on hearing it said the right way. You have to teach yourself to say it that way, and after you taught yourself, you still have slip ups.

I'm having another slip up. I'm letting the paranoia seep back in. Although I had never learned to block it out and it just kind of went away naturally, it's back. With time, comes strength and I find myself panicking again.

Anxiety attack. A big one this time.