Just a girl that nobody knows

Sometimes I wish the man I used to be could meet the man I've become. because he wasn't s broken or numb. Maybe he could pull me out of this hole or help me remember how to smile but ..sometimes I think I've been in this darkness for so long I may have grown blind from the light

Hey Dondon sorry your going through such a hard time....but u are right U might be a pawn in life's cruel game......but both u and I know what happens when the pawn reaches at the end it becomes the queen....and its one of the most powerful pieces in the games.....it very impressive how u relate chess with what ur feeling.....but don give up.....just like how the pawn never gave up....it always moved forward.....stay strong....your are smart....no one can tell u otherwise.....

Your writing IS sad and touching but beautiful and honest. I hope that it can give you and others some comfort, however small. Yes, in some senses they are “just” words, but they are your words, and they are the right words. I struggle to find the right ones to express how I feel. I agonize over every word and thought, barely able to scratch the surface of my pain. Everything I write is a contradiction, but then so is everything that I feel.

For me, drawing and painting come closest. I can avoid words, intellect and analysis. It is instinctive. I sometimes avoid using pens, pencils and brushes, and paint with a stick or piece of card or my fingers. Anything to FEEL. It often seems futile and I will fail. Certainly at my lowest it is painful and hopeless trying to create. Staring at the blank page, THROUGH the page, and scratching repeatedly on the same spot, driving through the paper like a form of self harm. But sometimes you can surprise yourself and create something extraordinary.

The world needs beautiful, special, and honest people like you. Anyone can write, paint or sing about themselves. But the best work also makes a connection and tells you something about YOU. There is too much bulls**t, dishonesty and fake emotion in this world. And too much importance placed on the irrelevant.

Who knows why we write, paint or compose. The world won’t stop turning if we don’t, and the romantic view of the outsider, the tortured writer or artist is bulls**t. Depression isn’t romantic. No one would choose this. It may be “only” words or whatever, but we do it because we need to express something, or connect with ourselves or others, to give an insight into "our" world. Maybe it gives us a moment of joy, a focus or a distraction. Perhaps it just helps.

There is some incredible writing and poetry on these pages. It is just so desperately unfair that the common thread is one of sadness and pain, and that the work is so obviously often written in despair.

I live in hope that one day the overriding feelings will be good ones, for all of us.

With love x