Being Human

Over 8 months and counting since I quit smoking, people often ask me how it is now 8months later. Most of them are surprised when I tell them it’s still hard sometimes. Crawling inside my mind I found out I’m not craving the nicotine, I’m longing for the supposed safety it brings and the self destruction and all those times where I drowned myself in sorrow, which was a daily battle but one easy to lose.

Yes, I’ve been depressed for about 2 a 3 years in total, before that I was okay for the most part. My parents always took good care of me, in a way maybe too good care since I’ve been over protected. Yet still I managed to get bullied for most of my childhood until I transferred to my 4th school. I grew stronger with each name I was called. They used to bully my mom for being a bit off and in succession they bullied me for being an outsider. I was an easy target, I never learned to be mad. To express my feelings and emotions, until it all went too far. I stood at the edge of a mountain cliff, threatening my parents to quit favouring my sister. I have stood in front of a child mob, with the biggest rock above my head that I could carry and I threatened to throw it at the richest kids car. I have stood on top of a play tower, mean kids closing in from each side and I kicked them off.