Today at rehersal, no one noticed I was so broken. In fact, no one even knew I was upset until Libbi asked me how my day went, and I said, "I feel like shit, actually."
I realize that I hide myself, shield myself from the people around me. I have an image to upkeep. I have a mask that's very easy to define.
- Perpetually cheerful
- Friendly and outgoing
- Funny
- Loud
- Energetic
- Enthusiastic
But how many of these things are true? I'm certainly not cheerful. I have Major Depression and OCD. I fight with them every day of my goddamn life. I'm friendly and outgoing to a point, that point being that I fear allowing people close enough to really see me. It's a very shallow level of friendliness. Funny? My humor is dark and bitter and ironic. The things that make me laugh are the things that hurt at the same time. Loud is true, but only until you realize that it's because when I'm quiet and observant (natural state), no one even knows I'm there. Energy is a state of mind, proven by how I am continuously tired, bone-weary. Enthusiastic? Effort, everyone judges by effort. It's okay to do fuck all, so long as you made an effort. So I pretend to make an effort. They can't fault me then.
I went to bed as the sun rose this morning. Yesterday, I guess. I hate the sun. I hate it. At least in the dark, you can't see what's going to kill you. At least there's the illusion of safety. The sun hides nothing, nothing. You run around in fear of everything and everyone because you can see them, seeing you. In the dark, you don't know until you feel the knife against your throat.
It's so much more fulfilling that way, I think.
I drabbled on the chalkboard in the green room, which was a mistake, because then they wanted to know who did it. I admitted, because I wrote it and didn't want someone thinking it was a quotation. Libbi says she wants to put it on her myspace. Joy.
Love and hate are two points on either end of a long grey continum. They are polar to each other, and yet, they are not opposites. It's easy enough to bring the ends of the line together, and then they are the same point anyhow.
Mine. My words. The cast doesn't think I can be deep; they don't understand that I simply don't do shallow.
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