My world, my bubble.

Have you ever felt like your world is crashing down?

Like there are so many things that’s going wrong yet you have no idea what exactly is wrong, and you’re crying and crying then suddenly, you’re void of all emotions.

You’re looking at your lighted cigarette in between your fingers, and you hear the all too familiar voices haunting you from inside your head.

Unconsciously, a bitter smile makes its way to your face because you know that these voices are stating nothing but facts.

You blow out a puff of smoke, just thinking about what a horrible person you are, and perhaps that you’re just simply useless is this cruel world.

You start thinking about all the 16 and 17 year olds, making millions in their successful career and you’re just there, in your lonely bubble, filling up the little oxygen you have left, with the smoke from your cigarette.

All you want to do is to find the will to live again, and how to just survive each passing day that’s going by, your small circle friends have always told you that you’re the sweetest and most down-to-earth, bubbliest person that they know of.

But one little mistake, then suddenly, you’re being called selfish, inconsiderate, rude, this, that and everything from nobody but the voices inside of your head. And suddenly you start blaming yourself for everything and anything and telling yourself no one truly cares about you. You start pushing everyone away because you could not bear for anyone to look through your façade or for anyone to even have the slightest opportunity to hurt you even more.

At this point of desperation and depression, you turn to the only hope you have left, your parents. Hoping to hear their words of encouragement and concern, you receive nothing like such and instead, they too tell you that you’re useless and a disappointment, and that you could never do anything right, you’re always at fault, you’re always the one to blame.

Then, the little small light of hope that you had left, goes out, you have finally lost faith in everything and everyone, you start questioning your existence all together. You try your hardest to find an answer, until your brain starts to hurt, your anxiety kicks in, you’ve reached your highest stage of depression, and you find yourself wallowing up in your small bubble, pulling out yet another stick of cigarette, crying again. Not because you want to, but because you can’t help it. 

And when you finally realise why is it that no matter how hard you try, you can’t find an answer as to why you’re still alive, its because you have already realised that your world has already crashed down a long time ago and all you’ve got left now is your lonely bubble, your pack of cigarettes, your anxiety, depression and the will to end everything.