i'm a fraud pt. II


i enjoyed dissing myself so much i just had to add a part two. Thought i couldn’t come up with any more flaws? i find that innocent thinking so fragile and so cute. i still have some shame that i decided to dig through. i’ll keep this one the same and only write what’s true. By the end of this hopefully, i can slightly skew your worldview. But if not, i’m still going to wander past this war in my head and see what dark truths i can loot.


Maybe a part of me doesn’t want to take the step and move onto the next. Maybe that’s the reason i still swap texts with my toxic ex. Maybe that’s the reason i indulge in the anxiety that palpitates in my chest. Maybe that’s why i love to slip away and feel myself and my world digress. Maybe i’m secretly so obsessed with the fact that i grew up so, so depressed.


Because i still feel like nobody really loves me even though i know in my heart that’s not true. You’d think after getting a thousand kisses and a thousand hugs i’d finally catch a clue. But it seems like i can only ever catch the blues. i guess i’m addicted to being cold and damp like socks as rainwater seeps through shoes.


i still feel inferior to anyone i look directly in the eyes. My back’s not straight as my posture deflates knowing i’ll never value myself as a prize. Maybe that’s the reason i didn’t feel the need to capitalize any of these ‘i’s’. Even the pronouns i use need to lower themselves just in case they can’t hide under a disguise.


i still fall victim to substances that have always played a role in the violence. i still would rather find a pill to swallow and feel hollow than sit at home in peace and silence. After 24 hours i look back at the choices i made and think ‘damn i wish i could rewind this’. But i could meet my older self from the future, hear the advice, and still deny the guidance.


i don’t take prescription meds now but i know if i had them i’d either mix them or flip them. Probably turn them to a fine powder with a pestle, glass full of Prosecco, as i mix them and sip them. Maybe take three at a time and tango with death as reality starts to slip thin. Right when i think i’m coming down my last dose surges and kicks in.


i’m still searching for a way for me to accept that i’m really forgiven. i guess it’s hard for me to remember that i don’t have to stay confined all the time in my mental prison. But it’s hard to remember that when i still have scars from sophomore year incisions. It feels like just the other day i was sitting on the floor watching blood pour as my tears blurred my vision.


The first time i went to therapy she gave me enough pills to fill the inside of a purse. The second time i showed up she diagnosed me with the worst. Bipolar depression with a pinch of anxiety are what was used to describe my hurt. When i first heard that all i wanted was to fall asleep inside a hearse. Four years later i made a choice to take my biggest blessing to describe my biggest curse.


Talking truthfully, i’m really okay but i still find sadness and feel the need to tap in. Because i think for a lot of people my age being okay and not okay is a gap that’s thin. A lot of us are reaching for a hand to help out and can’t find a limb. i wish feeling what i’m feeling didn’t have to feel like a sin.


I guess a small part of my head will always be stuck in the same position of the past like it’s molded in a permanent cast. For the sake of my sanity, i wish those memories wouldn’t last. But until they go away im going to describe the days where i’m mentally harassed.


Because i think most of us are thinking the same thoughts but some just don’t know how to express it. So we cover it through different voids like it doesn’t hurt to repress shit. The amount of pain we keep inside is really quite impressive. We guard it with protection like an item so very precious.


Yes, my head is still a little bit of a mess. But no, i don’t find myself really tripping over excess stress. Yes, i still feel a hint of disgust when i get undressed. But no, i don’t try to fix it by starving my body and eating less. Yes, i still find days where i stumble and feel depressed. But no, i never forget the fact that deep down i’m truly blessed.


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