The Two Sides of Me: A Brutally Honest Description

This is going to be a brutally honest description of myself, be warned. I am going to be very honest. I wouldn’t say I struggle with making friends and being with people. I haven’t in a while. To be honest, everyone I meet likes me. Adults think I’m pleasant and respectful, younger girls in school look up to me, girls and boys my age think I’m funny and get along well with them. I know I’m pretty too. It’s part of why I seem so kind and pleasant to everyone. Everyone asks me where I get my clothes and my bags and how I do my makeup, younger girls ask me for boy advice, all that stuff. I know I’m well liked. Everyone at work likes me too. My boss has fired people who have done better work than me because she likes my kindness and attitude. I started as the youngest of all my coworkers and had no reason to be kept on the staff. I’ve seen with my very eyes how my kindness and aura affects people. I’m the one everyone looks up at when I enter the room. I’m the mediator everyone depends on. I’m the giver who showers everyone I see in my love. Everyone loves me. That’s only what they see of me though. I’m sure if anyone I knew in real life saw this, they’d never in a million years guess who I am. The person they know me as and the person I truly am inside is a dichotomy. I am not who I seem to be at all. I love that they know me as an important person. But sometimes…it makes me feel lonely knowing no one will ever know who I really am. Fucked up slitting my wrists and downing pills in my room, angry tears fighting with my parents, fighting with myself. Constant visits to the doctors, only for them to deny what I’m feeling. They will never know. They think I’m perfect. They want to be me. But they don’t know. And that’s okay. I’ll take a lifetime of pain for my admirers happiness. Well, it’s not like I have a choice. Depression runs in my blood. I carry the weight of all this pain and smile for them. I know everyone loves me and I can’t let them down, can I? I tell them when I need time for myself, and say I need to be alone. But I tell them I’m just a little tired and sad. I just have a headache. When it’s a full blown episode with pills down my throat and my mom banging on my door threatening to dial emergency services and send me away. I go days and days without going to school. Days and days without showering. Without taking care of myself. Without eating, or sometimes over eating. And I show up one day again. I show up put together, as if I’d never been depressed a day in my life. As if I’d not been struggling to get myself to shower for 3 weeks. I put on my pretty outfits and my elegant makeup. I style my hair and get a cute bag. I take my pills and I go out and when everyone asks where I’ve been for the last three weeks…. “Oh just some silly family stuff!” “I was skipping, I’m tired of school!” “Just my migraines acting up” This is my life. And I’m used to it. It’s OKAY. I’ve come to terms with it, that these are two sides of the same coin respectfully. But even so, it’s ironic isn’t it? I am the healer who knows all cures The cure to heal others, but never herself