You know the problem with happiness is that people search for it in things, places or other people and since that’s impossible, they stop searching and just learn to live unhappy, because all you get told when you’re not feeling good is to get over it because that’s what life is.
You keep trying to find what’s wrong with you.
And so you try everything. You try to make yourself happy by buying things, because that’s what people in movies do,
by being with other people, because that’s what makes other people happy, and slowly loose a part of yourself, that part that keeps you unhappy.
You build a wall in yourself and become emotionless, numb.
You walk, but you don’t feel your legs.
You speak, but you don’t use your voice.
You hear, but you don’t remember.
You eat, but you don’t taste.
You see, but you don’t feel.
You live, but you don’t.
And even though you feel like there’s not a single part left of you, the pain still feels unbearable
I became so numb for the past few years, I didn’t even feel the pain I used to.
I forgot who I am and felt like a blank canvas and constantly searched for something or someone to paint on it.
What I kept forgetting is that the only one who can do that, is myself.
So I ripped everything apart, including myself.
And for once again, I felt.
I stripped down everything that wasn’t me.
All the fake smiles, all the makeup that just made me feel more insecure, all the hair straightening to make me feel more beautiful, all the clothes to hide my flaws, all the money that made me feel better, all the stress about being good enough, everything to make others like me, but not myself.
And there I was. With nothing and no one, a blank canvas with myself being ready to start painting.
I finally had the time to find who I am, who I want to be, what I want to do, and you know what?
I still don’t perfectly know, who ever does.
But I finally feel like myself, and I feel the happiest I ever did.
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