I guess I was too 'consumed' in my own world; accepted the fact that I'm different, and I'll never be normal. My whole life, all I wanted to do was to be normal. I'm not disabled, deaf or blind. You'd never understand, or at least, I've accepted the fact that not many 'normal' people understand, no matter how hard you try to justify your actions. Why I do certain things, why everyday feels as though I've failed my exams, why I don't form close relationships with people, why I can't make eye contact with anyone. I was in my own community, exiled myself from the world of 'normal' people and come to terms that I'll never be one of them no matter how hard I try to fit in.

Borderline personality disorder.

Someone said we shouldn't self-diagnose, because one day, it'll lead us to believe that we're actually that 'disease'.

So it means if we purge after meals, binge, and vomit out blood, and manage to keep a constant weight... and have been suffering for years, I guess we're not bulimic? Whatever. People self-diagnose because they're scared of doctors. I'm not implying anything. I'm not giving you my diag-nonsense. I'm just saying. You know, just dispersed unfathomable thoughts that you wouldn't understand.

So here we are, in this world we created, thinking we're living in false pretences. Being this fucking clown to fit in when you can't, and smile as though you mean it. Just trying to be this 'strong' person just to appear normal. And then when we're alone, in the dark, and there's no one to perform to, we fall apart and start destroying ourselves. And funny liquid called 'tears' start staining our faces and there we are, helpless and almost dead. And we just get tired of pretending and everyday seems like a burden, breathing becomes a chore. If one day, one day we could just escape and fly to somewhere green and blissful. So here we are thinking, no one understands.

And we don't know, that almost everyone feels the same. Everyone has that mask, everyone acts and looks happy but is dying inside. Maybe not all the time, but there are days that you need to pretend. No one is a fucking clown. Truth is, you're not alone, as I've realised. It's only that no one really talks about it. Because we're constantly living in secrecy, and to expose it, is to fail at life(Again, that is my view on it.)

And so now I'm thinking, don't be stupid, I'm not alone.

Because I'm not lucky enough to possess some kind of a 'special secret best friend', I guess there's just this fucking public blog that I turn to. At least, I know, someone's reading, and it makes my existence more worthwhile. If you read up to this point, thank you for caring, at least.

As for the being 'normal', I guess I'm doing fairly good now. I'm well on my way to 'normal-ness', leaving that old world of mine, rather reluctantly. Change is always a scary experience.