Expendable

Oizys

EXPENDABLE, of little value or significance compared to the overall purpose. Abandoned.
Have you ever felt like this in your life? You were an unnecessary add on. You will not be missed. This is the state in which I currently reside. I am expendable, to my friends and even to myself. I am of little importance. My feelings not considered. My heart now aching.

Depressed, in a state of general unhappiness. Despondent.
This is where I live and have lived for a long time now. Therapy, medication, more therapy. Sure, it helps sometimes. The panic attacks may have stopped. The anxiety seems under control, but it’s still there. It is always there. Haunting me, like a ghost.

Everyday I look in the mirror. Somedays I tell myself that I am beautiful and I am worthy of a great life and love. Other days however, I see myself as a person who is unloved, unhappy, and ugly from the inside out. Put a smile on my face and no one will know. Stay distant and no one will find out. Cry in the shower so no one sees. Try to fall asleep, but know the thoughts in your head will not allow it.

The anxiety comes; breathe, and stop shaking. The shaking gives it away.

Still ugly? Throw up until all the pounds melt away. They like me skinny. It is beautiful. If my clothes get tight, I must hide. Sweatshirts cover it all. This is wrong. I must remind myself. Saying my mental mantra ‘you are beautiful, you are worthy of love, you are not fat’ every single day. I know it is true, but maybe one day I will actually believe it.

I am okay. I am dramatic. I am selfish. I am judgmental. I am sad, but I am okay. Work hard to be better. Maybe if I pretend to be the person I want to be, eventually I will become her. That though seems far fetched often times, but there are moments of clarity. In these moments, I feel the happiness and the confidence, but it does not last. It never does.

My parents are worried. I do not want to worry them. Smile. Tell them that you are doing great. Cry later when they are not there.

I suffer from anxiety induced depression, and now I am worried that I am be bulimic. I am lost, lonely, and often times sad. Over the years, I learned to cope. I deal with it, suppress it, and force myself to go out and be normal. It starts to work. I am happy until I am not anymore.

I do not want to die, but I also do not want to feel this way. I want a future, with a husband and children. I want true love and a happy career. I sometime just have a hard time believing that I will ever get that. I will never hurt myself, that is the easy way out. Life is struggles. These struggles will shape me and make me a better person one day.

My problems do not define me. They are daily road blocks that I must work to overcome. I have been able to overcome them all so far, and I will continue doing so until they are all gone. They will go away. I have to believe that.

I think I am a happy person until I am alone. I sink. My feelings dragging me until until I am choking for breathe. The first gasp of air is a relief. I am fine for now, but I will sink again. I always do.