To The Person Reading This

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Hi.  

You may or may not know me. 

But if you don't, 

Let me explain. 


On the outside, 

I am nice, funny, and caring. 

A smile always reaches my face, even on the bad days. 


When I am at school, I am most commonly known as the girl who is always laughing. 

The one who never has bad days. 

The one who never seems like anything is wrong. 

The one who is always...

Happy. 


But... They don't know me. 


When I am not at school, my life at home is messy. 

My family treats me like I'm nothing. Like they can walk all over me. 


Which they do. 


This brought low self-esteem. You think my mother has ever called me beautiful?

This brought anxiety. You think I haven't told them I have anxiety? They brush it off as if it was nothing. 


And this also brought depression. 


You think living with someone for over 15 years you would know every thought and feeling of theirs.

Well, newsflash. They don't. 


To the person reading this, It began in 7th grade. 

I didn't know what I was feeling until 9th. 


I thought it was normal to feel isolated. 

To feel like I am walking in a hallway full of people but not one person glances at me. 

To feel like I am a dandelion in a group of roses. 

I thought that was normal. 


As the days went by,

Each night got worse. 

Tears were shed and silent crying became my profession. 


To this day, it still is. 


So I am not the happy one everyone thinks I am. 

Every day a little but of my dies and the pain never seems to go away. 

I am a wilting flower, 

A storm with no rainbow. 

Isolation is my best friend. 

So to whom it may concern,

This is me. The real me. 


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⏰ Last updated: Dec 25, 2018 ⏰

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