I don't know what to say to explain to you how I always end up here. How I start and succeed and then fall off.
And how that embarrasses me. That I can't keep going.
That it's easy when the going is happy. When I am happy.
But then home is hard or family is hard or friends are hard, or the tired and depression comes.
And how that becomes two days and three days and a month.
And I've failed and I don't want to admit it to me, much less you. so I just keep right on avoiding and failing.
I don't know how to tell you what it means to be here again. To have been so close and to have failed so hard.
To know how much work there is to do.
I don't know how to tell you how it feels to see the pictures in the magazines and the girls who are pretty and know that they aren't me, and that I will probably never get to a point where they are.
I don't know how to explain the people inside of me....
That I'm her on the inside. -->>
Every look, I remember. Every comment you've made, I remember.
Every minute of every day, I remember.
But I don't know how to tell you. We don't know how to tell you.
So we don't. We harden hearts and perfect smiles. We make fun of ourselves... and we even make fun of those like us. Because that's part of it, isn't it? We have to be part of the group. We have to be part of the culture. And so we ridicule what we are ourselves.
You can't know.
And I can't tell you.
That's the code.