The Ogre

Sometimes I feel like the ugly ogre everyone runs away from.

They see my exterior--my weight, my ugliness.

They see my anger, shyness, isolation.

They would never look further to see my pain, loneliness, fear.

They would never imagine that their kindness could shatter my bubble and free my spirit.

They have no idea that a hug would make me realize that I am alive.

Ogres are former people who got hurt so much that they transformed in order to shield themselves from the constant pain. No one cared enough to kiss their wounds, to heal their hurt.

No one paid attention as they turned into something they weren't supposed to be.

**************
I've been feeling quite down this evening. Thoughts about the point of living this life keep invading my mind. People endure by having a balance. They face incredibly low lows, yet also enjoy amazingly high highs. Mr. Adams once told me that life is about opposites--one can't exist without the other. Every pain is mirrored by a pleasure. Every high is mirrored by a low. A yin yang, if you will.

But those of us suffering from depression only experience one side of that coin. The negative side. We do have our fair share of high moments, but we manage to look at them with reservation. I recently got a job after seven months of unemployment. Instead of being joyful, I'm full of angst. I don't like the job. I don't like the location. I do like the people, but I can already see myself putting walls up to keep them out.

On the flip side, when we experience lows, we put our full attention on them. Molehills become vast mountain ranges. We start to see our world as one big negative experience after another, and living a life like that is terrifying. It makes you question your place in this world. Makes you wonder if this life is really worth living.

I fear life. I'm terrified of getting sick with some horrible disease and being all alone. I don't have many people in my life. There are days when I swear a single hug would heal my wounds. There's no one to hug me, though. Those that would, I have already warned that I don't like to be touched, and wouldn't you know, they respect that boundary. They don't know, though, that my telling them I don't like to be touched is a knee jerk reaction. I've said it for years, and it's to the point where I don't even realize I'm saying it until it's already been said. I fear letting someone in, yet it's the one thing I crave more than anything in this world. I want someone to care about me. Someone to see my deep wounds and to just hug me and tell me everything is going to be alright. I need someone to reassure me, because life is too scary for me to navigate alone.

What a shitty situation: Needing someone genuine and authentic in my life, yet being too scared to let anyone in. I don't know how to trust.

No one paid attention as the little soul turned into an angry ogre. Something she wasn't meant to be.