The night my best friend had his accident I woke up at three in the morning to him saying my name over and over. Later, I found out that he technically died for forty something seconds (I believe that was the time. I don’t remember exactly nor do I want to).
That’s why I’m infatuated with ghosts. So much so that I visit graveyards all the time. And it’s part of the reason why death doesn’t bother me.
And it makes me happy. In some weird, twisted way it makes me happy that if he was going to die, he was going to wake me up. It’s like I was supposed to face the idea that he wasn’t always going to be around.
He didn’t want me to just sleep walk through a tragedy. He wanted me to face it because he knew I could handle it and that makes me happy. Sad, but happy.
You can’t just ignore your problems. You have to wake up. You have to find your own self.
But that’s neither here nor there. So let’s rant.
Can we talk about the Fix You Plots?
Because I’m just absolutely sick of them.
I kind of feel like I’ve already been over this in countless other rants, but c’mon. What’s one more while I’m tired and in pain and just sitting around?
In case you guys never noticed I kind of really hate the romance genre. A lot. Because all these people romanticize all these awful things and then pretend that they can all be fixed by getting a boyfriend or girlfriend.
Bullshit. Just, bullshit.
I hate that the “dark pasts” suddenly don’t matter when the love interest is introduced.
Love isn’t enough. I don’t care what people say. It’s not always going to be enough. And it’s hard to understand and hard to accept, but love can’t just be everything, okay?
If love was enough, bad things wouldn’t happen.
A nice guy isn’t going to just take away from the way years of abuse make you feel. It’s not going to make you trust people again. It’s not going to make you undepressed or carefree.
It’s not going to just alter the past. Those memories aren’t going to change.
Some things you will never get over. You will never recover from some things, but you can learn to live with them. It’s not about finding someone that will just change your life. It’s about finding someone that will allow you to change your own life on your own terms for your own good.
In truth, I’ve never known someone that was sincerely going through something incredibly difficult that just opened up about all their struggles just because the cute new boy/girl smiled at them.
In fact, they never even say anything. Their secrets get found out because they run out of places to hide.
Usually they never say anything, because they’re scared. Scared that people will think they’re weird. Scared that it’s going to push everyone away. Scared that they’ll make everything worse by asking for help.
I think that’s why it is so hard to ask for help. Because you’re terrified people are going to think that you’re some weird freak when reality, it’s not like that at all.
People shouldn’t be afraid to ask for help when they have a problem.
But they are. Because some really hot guy isn’t going to just magically make everything okay. Some girl with a cute smile isn’t going to make life so much better and I think we all know that.
We get that it’s a personal choice, but when you get in so much trouble you start to hate yourself and you can’t. You just can’t.
So it annoys me when suddenly the girl that’s been talking about how she wants to kill herself for twelve chapters suddenly meets a boy in chapter thirteen and never again thinks about her depression.
It irritates me when the boy that’s been slicing up his wrists for eighteen pages meets a super cute girl that does it too and they never cut themselves again, because they’re so happy.
If it were so easy to just open up about your problems, then no one would ever have any. The world would be all rainbows and butterflies.
If it were so easy to just open up about your problems, then you wouldn’t have spent the entire night in the bathroom throwing up in fear after your best friend tells you you’re going to die if you don’t get help.
If it were so easy to just open up about your problems, then you wouldn’t hate everyone around you for not hearing the things you aren’t saying.
If it were so easy to just open up about your problems, then you would have more faith in yourself.
God. Fuck.
If even just one person realizes that it’s okay to speak up and ask for help, then these rants will be worth it.
I’m telling you right now, if you have a problem it is okay to ask for help. It doesn’t make you weird. It doesn’t make you a freak. It doesn’t make you an attention whore.
Ask for help.
It’s not going to be easy, but the struggle makes it so much sweeter.
Ask. For. Help. Seriously.
You aren’t just broken projects. When we treat people like objects we take away every bit of humanity and that’s unfair. People are people.
Deciding not to kill yourself is powerful. Deciding to get counseling for an eating disorder is powerful. Deciding to speak up about your abuse is powerful.
It’s hard. It’s the hardest thing you’ll ever have to do, but you can. You can do it.
And it’s unfair that we give all the credit and glory to the people that are bystanders.
“It must be hard to love someone so broken.” “It must have been hard to help someone change their life.”
It is. But it’s harder to be the one always on the edge.
You know what, I want to stop doing that. I want to read about an actual journey of getting help. I want there to be a support system, yes, but I don’t want it just to be about how a boy/girl saved another boy/girl just by paying attention to them.
I want a boy/girl to figure out that they’re worth it. That life sucks sometimes, and bad things happen, but that there are beautiful things out there.
Life is an adventure, you’ve just got to take the first step out of the door.