excerpts

15.3

I'm getting bad again. 

My eyes stare unblinkingly at the letters freshly typed on my screen, black against white, a stark contrast in the dark of the room. 

And I can't tell anyone about it.

Moving mechanically, my fingers write the words that I've been repeating in my head for days.

It's the truth. Nobody would understand, nobody could begin to comprehend the complexity of one's mind, not when it's twisted beyond belief. The intricate workings of thought and belief and how and why one does and thinks things is not something anyone will ever understand. 

It might seem melodramatic,  nobody understands,  yet it's the only way that I can let people know what's going on. And yet, nobody understands what that really means, though I try to explain.

It means that what everyone sees isn't what is actually there. It means that nobody really understands why things happen or why people do things. It means that I'll do something and nobody will understand why I do it, even though they  make their own assumptions. It means that whenever I'm getting bad again, when I feel like that again, and I try to provide a reason, nobody believes me, because they already have another idea in their mind that they know is right. Because they don't think. How could they possibly know what's going on in someone else's mind? They can't. 

When I get bad again, I rely on outlets like this and other people to vent and  I try to explain. But I can never tell them everything. I don't think I ever will. So if anyone thinks they know me, really knows me, then think again. Because I don 't think anyone knows every side of me. They see a lot of sides. Never all. There are sides of me that I let no one see, not because I can't trust them, but because even if they want to understand, they can't. They think they do and they think they can but they can't.

Because through every side of me that people have seen, and every judgement that people have made, nobody has ever made the right assumption. Nobody has guessed the real  me. Nobody has seen and understood what I've been through, how I've felt. You can keep looking and looking, but there's nothing to find. 

Because the biggest secret of all is that I am nothing. 

And that's the biggest thing that nobody will ever understand.