She is an outcast. She finds it easier to express what she feels in the form of writing. Whether it is poems, letters or long texts. These are poems that she writes trying to describe how it feels to live with certain mental health issues, in a worl...
The greatest misery of my life is sadly, also the greatest blunder done by some people in my life. That is, my brain wasn't given the room to develop like a normal individual. It does everything at two extremes, it either over-loves or hates someone, it either overthinks or doesn't give it headspace at all, it either trusts completely or doesn't trust at all, it is either secure or always has it's guard up.
Sometimes I imagine what it would feel like, to live in the head of someone who got the opportunity to develop normally. Wouldn't their mind be an enchanting garden, while mine is a mysterious forest?
My forest feels like the thorns wrapping around me just like canines waiting to tear me into mere flesh and bones. The trees seem to close in, cutting out the light, making me feel claustrophobic.
While their garden is enchanting and glows with other worldly light, the trees and flowers seeming to dance. Rocks of various sizes covered in soft, fuzzy, green moss. Everything serene, magical and alluring.
Isn't this a bit unfair?
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