Plastic, just like a barbie doll.

As plastic as a Barbie doll, that’s what my smiles, my face is like someday. This awful sad or even depressed feeling I’ve got, it’s a curse, but yet a relief. A known feeling, something I’m familiar with, something I know how to handle, just not how to prevent it from happening. They say that laughter is the best medicine, and sometimes it is. All I need to cheer up is to laugh, to find something that keeps my mind busy instead of thinking about what I’m feeling.

Forcing laughter , faking smile :)

A lot of people I have heard about and some that I know have tried to commit suicide, it’s sad, but I get them. I envy them in one way; they have the courage to do something like that. And I know that I have the same courage inside me, I’m just too much of a wimp to show it, or do something like that. I think way too much about others, how they would feel about it than I think about what I need, what I want.

I can’t even count the number of times I’ve walked up the street close to my home and walked past that blind spot, where there’s a bush that blinds you so you can’t see if there is any upcoming cars or anything. I’ve pictured it so many times, how the car comes and runs me over, but it never happens. Yes I’m selfish, I know. To only think about it makes me ashamed, but I can’t help it, wondering how much easier everybody’s lives would’ve been without my problems. They didn’t have to worry about me harming myself or anything.

I don’t like people worrying about me, but yet they always do.I remember last year, I think it was in November or something, at least it was cold outside. We had  classes, and the window right in front of the table showed the  the street, and behind it there was a really tall building, and all I ever wanted was to jump from it, to kill myself. I’ve never told anyone that. I think too much, look at everything from every angle possible, look at every option, consequence and reason. I never jumped because I knew I was going to hurt someone deeply by going away.

But every time I’ve felt down I’ve had a savior, Salman, he’s a friend of mine. He’s always there from me when I need him, and I try to be there for him too.  He’s the closest guy friend I have, he’s not fake, and he’s honest.We know each other better than anyone, he knows me better than anyone I know. He helps me with what he can, and even though he thinks he’s not helping me much at all, he’s saying exactly what I need to hear, and I don’t know what I would do without him.