Emotions

Ever been feeling awful? Has anyone ever then told you when you finally confessed, „everyone feels that way. It’s part of growing up.” If so, read on, if not, feel free to stop. People have always told me this. Sure, when I was younger, it was fine to get me to feel better.

Now I’m older and frankly that helps absolutely nothing. So everyone feels this way, why? Is there something I need to do to make it better? See people never tell you these things. They decide to tell you it is a social norm and see how you do. Everyone breaks down, cries, then they just ignore it right? No, I hate this with a fiery burning passion. Let it be social norm, allow people to put a bandage on a gaping wound. Not me. I want to fix the problem, stitch everything back together bit by bit to ensure a job as perfect as possible.

I want to be healed, not babied. I’m a teenager. Let me hurt and don’t you dare tell me it’s normal unless we’re discussing bodily changes, not deep threaded issues. And if I come to you with a problem and find some courage to say it, don’t make me regret it and want to curl up with my safety stuffed animals as opposed to talk to you. If I’m breaking down, don’t even say what’s wrong with you unless you’ve been through my issue and you can fluffy caking help me. If it is irrelevant, don’t bother bringing it up and making me feel worse.

I usually don’t meddle with my own happiness. My first priorities is other’s comfort and happiness (mostly, sometimes I couldn’t care less, those are bad days, I have my moments). If you say you have a problem, forget about my petty problems that make me break down, I’m going to fix you. Assuming I’m not one-hundred percent done with everything.

Let me hurt but try with all your might to do something for me. Help me understand my own jumbled mess on the floor. Afterwards, when you need me, I’m here.

And another thing, if I somehow manifest the courage to tell you the private emotions I hide in my tummy jar (self-explanatory), feel honored. My emotions are mine, not yours, not your Aunt Lucinda’s. They are mine and they are sacred. Respect the emotions privacy and shyness. I won’t prod you unless I feel like you will do something awful to yourself or another if I don’t intervene.

I can’t be the only one done with cover ups. If you see yourself here, hey, know I’m with you. You are never alone in this world. (No matter how much you feel like it,) someone out there has to have a similar issue.