Drowning in my Own Mask

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic
Masks can only hold together for so long before the person falls apart.

Submitted: December 14, 2011

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Submitted: December 14, 2011




People expect too many things, they want too many things, and they take those things without thinking of the other person. They see what they want and they take it, which depending on the situation isn’t that bad, but it usually ends badly, for them or someone else. For instance, people expect me to be this crazy loud creative party girl that will only sleep when I die! Crazy, ha-ha yes; loud, I can be; creative, sure I am; party, if you want; girl, yes I can assure you. That’s how my mask is designed, with New Year stickers and Mardi Gras stamps from kindergarten, and although those traits are a part of me and my personality, it’s not all there is of me. There are many types of personalities in a single person, yet only one trait is known to others, otherwise called the mask. It shields the person’s feelings, secrets, and other sides of their personality, the mask is basically what other people expect and want to see. The mask is mostly what others have said, not what the person wearing it is thinking, it’s what they’ve been told is attractive, cool, or the best thing. However, it’s a mask, not a reality, it’s not the real person, and the person would rather become that mask than rather become them. There isn’t really a bully problem, it’s usually that person beating themselves up on what others have said, and everyone is like that, no matter how carefree they seems, there will be a time when they will hate themselves.

Masks don’t solve anything, they don’t take the damage for anything, they don’t help you get over things, and they only try to please other people by becoming the image that they want to see. Soon the masks become so chipped, burned, and scarred that the victim will be fed up and break the mask, yet other people will chase the victim back to their broken mask, leaving the victim to pick up the remainders of it, going back to being what they’ve been told is right. People can be hurtful without realizing it, and even I have, I realize that, and even though you may try to fix it, that person’s mask will be left with the crack you left there. Some people talk smack about others and expect to hear good things about themselves, there are just those kinds of people in the world, and nothing can change them, that’s how their mask was created. One day though, one day that person will turn around and find their mask has been ripped away and they will have to confess everything, yet they still didn’t do anything wrong, the world made them that way, and the sad part is, that’s how the world works.

People have ways to escape these worries, a way to remove the mask and to be able to breathe. For me, it’s writing, it’s where you can write what you want, where nobody can judge and tell you what you’re doing wrong. It’s not an excluded thing; it’s for anybody who has the heart to do it. I write things that I would want to happen in my life, to help me get away from the world sometimes. Between the pressures of friends, grades, popularity, sports, and keeping everyone happy so that they will just leave you alone, it gets rough. It gets lonely, and the road just leads to despair. I guess I only say this because my family suffers from depression and it comes to tackle us, to bring us down, to make us doubt ourselves so that we cry and rebuild our broken masks. Then when you try to tell someone about what’s going on in your life, they don’t believe you, they didn’t meet the person behind the mask, because they met the mask.

My friend, Terra, she also suffers from depression. Before we knew about it, we joked around saying, “They say depression like it’s a disease!” However, it acts that way, it makes you doubt and hate yourself so much that you feel sick, sick of being yourself. The sadness is just like a group of demons piling on your back, trying to make you rot inside out with the feeling of, “Is it worth getting out of bed?” Terra though, had it worst of people I know. She had a real demon wake her up to make her realize that depression is serious and that masks are everywhere for everyone. That story though is one I will not speak of without her permission. All I can say is that it woke her up from a dream she was drowning in, and ever since that experience, she’s been forging a mask to cover up all the faults she thinks she has, when she’s the best person I know.

And to make things clear, depression is a sickness to me; it drowns you in the tears you hold in so nobody sees you have a weakness. If people find you have a weakness, they tear you down with that weakness and leave you there; drowning in the tears you aren’t afraid to hold in anymore. You can’t believe what a relief it is to say this, I wanted to write this because I’ve had enough and this is the place I can let people know that. 

© Copyright 2018 Jaz Grace. All rights reserved.

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