Fighting What I Couldn't See

In times of darkness when I lay on my mattress, I can feel the sob coming up my throat. The tremble of my lips, the shutting of my dull brown eyes only makes it worst.

How to fight what you can't see?

Here is a funny story; when I was 15, someone pushed me and in that moment, my hand got stuck in the doorknob somehow and my skin got ripped apart, many were concerned. They helped me as I healed. When I was 17, struggling with insomnia, fighting depression and anxiety, I looked at my boyfriend and asked for help but the questions proceeded then, 'why?', 'how?', 'are you sure?'.

It is not a funny story.

I am a schizophreniac and labels are attached to me. I can breathe, walk, talk and love like anyone else yet, as I go about to state bravely that I recognise myself as someone with a mental disorder, I am given the feeling that I should not have spoken up for myself.

13 years old me hid away her scars and bruises but 17 years old me finds it hard to bottle it all up. Happy is what I wish to be but sadness is what I cannot avoid.

They tell you they love you and they will support you at your worst but when the worst finally ticks by, I am the one laying down facing a sleepless night on a cold bed as those I love sleeps without worry about the next morning and red puffy eyes.

Why don't I call them?

I did before. They did not pick up.

Life is not a book, it never ends as the plot unfolds. It is a viscious circle that finds it hard to let go. And I am pretty much the same.

I am sorry but I am not sorry for me.
I say sorry for those who should have said but could not say it. I say sorry because I do not want to hear others say it. For, there is nothing as heart-wrenching and cruel as a sorry as many of those who say it do not try to remedy the situation but instead to justify they will do better next time yet, the next time never comes. In its place however, comes a sorry.

And so, I will start again.

My name is Hanshika Heeramun, 17, bisexual and proud, a kid but an old one and barely out of feeling blue.

This is my blog and you are very welcomed to stay.

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