Little white lies. That’s all they are. The I am fine, the I’m just tired. Little white lies, that is all. But when do white lies, turn sickly and grey. When do white lies turn into the opposite of the truth. I have always been that person, who deals with their problems independently, who likes to do things on their own. With no help, with no assistance. I have always kept to myself. But this keeping to myself has become deadly. Because now, the I need help, the I want to cry’s. Have disappeared. Replaced by little white lies. The biggest on of them all, I am fine.
It is hard to accept when you are not fine. Friends can tell you you are not fine, therapists can tell you you are not fine. Boyfriends, girlfriends, cousins, sisters, brothers the list goes on. Yet we can never seem to accept it ourselves. Because we hate to realise there is something wrong with us, something being wrong with you means being different, and being different was crossed out in deadly red marker the first day we got swallowed by society.
I have always found the spetrum of human emotion completely fascinating. Sadness, happiness, joy, guilt. It is so odd how we have this way of feeling something, thinking about something. And feeling is so important, feeling is the foundation of building an opinion. But sometimes, as I have realised, it is easier not to feel. To turn of the switch of human emotion is so effortlessly easy. So instead of accepting our faults, our human emotion. We tell those little white lies.
And I do, and I am guilty. I am not fine. And I want to scream it from a roof top, but I don’t. Because it is so much easier to just turn it off, it is so so much easier to play pretend, to pretend you are normal, even for a little while. Because normality is something every unique person has in the back of their minds, no matter how much you try. Society can always get to you. So it is easier for just ‘ yes, I am fine’.
I think its like a protective barrier. We like to mask negativity with positivity. To form a comfy little shield. Because telling somebody our problems, opening up, often feels like we are being exposed, like our protective little barriers are being ripped away from us. And they are. But that person without their protective barrier, that person with no fake smiles or laughs, that person. Is reality. That person is the real normality.
You see, we think we know people. From the way they laugh, from the way their face creases when they smile, from the inside jokes and their date of birth. We think we know people just like that, but all we are seeing is the exterior. We never get to hear the way their laugh dwindles, we never get to see the way their smile fades, we never get to see their depression, we never get to see their anxiety, we never get to see their sudden pangs of fear, we never get to see their suicide attempts and their slit wrists. But it’s ok, just a little white lie. I am fine.
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