Because It Still Hurts.

It sucks being the middle child, because no matter what I do or say, I'm always being compared to my older sister and my younger sister. I don't think anything else ever matter to my parents, although that do not make me love my parents any less.

It's been three months since I become unemployed, unable to score any decent job. And staying at home for three months straight gave me the views I never wanted.

It still so goddamn hurts to see my parents put more attention into my younger sister. They often turn a blind eye over the words I said, or over the things I did. And the main thing was that my younger sister is so freaking good in making sure that she is able to steal my lime light.

I told my parents that I had this ache on my chest that had been bothering me since a month earlier, my younger sister would tell my parents later that she is down with a fever and needs them both to take her to the clinic. Because to her, it is more important for the one with a fever to be sent to the clinic than the one who had chest pain for over a month.

Yeah, I could tolerate stealing numerous painkillers from the medicine cabinet to make sure I am able to sleep at night.

And yes, I steal painkillers. Lots of painkillers, actually. I can't even named some of them, because obviously I sucks in Science.

I think I have developed an addiction toward inflicting pain into my heart. At times, I would dwell my sorrow in the worst way possible, drinking my misery away. No, not alcohol, just a huge and unhealthy amount of coffee and carbonated drinks that gave me awful headaches and hurt my throat. There are certain times when I starved myself because I needed to see it as a punishment. I want to be as thin as my sisters. I hate to see myself in the mirror, and being compared to my sisters by own inner demons.

I am exhausted. I am worn out and I just want to give up. It's exhausting, trying to cope with these standards that create unfixable distance between my sisters and I. I'm beat, my mental state is no longer close to the state of sane because I keep having all these voices telling me push myself to the maximum, even if it fucking hurts.

I don't know how to get this pain out of me. I hate to share, but if I continue to keep it all to myself, I'm afraid I might burst and all of it would be too late.

To admit that I need a help is stupid, because I have always been asked to be the strong one. I have always been told to be independent, to swallow the tears and screams. I am always all alone, because everyone in this goddamn world think of me as a useless kid who refuse to grow up.

Newsflash, I want to grow up. I jusg can't let go and continue to dwell with the ghost of my childhood past.

And please, do not even let me started on my childhood. It is stupid, and all of the misery I have gone through ultimately made me the person who I am now.

Sometimes I wake up in the morning and wish I have opened my eyes to a life that isn't mine at all. Maybe I could be in someone else's life, and it could help make the pain hurt less.

Maybe this is ridiculous, maybe this is just me being immature and refuse to deal with the harsh life I an living in. Maybe I am just childish and want everything to go my way. Hell yes, I want that. But so does everyone else who lives on this earth.

I wish the pain will stop hurting so freaking much. That is all that I want.