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I Was Screaming and You Never Heard Me

 I don't really know how to say this without sounding dramatic, so I'm just going to say it the way it lives in my head. 


I'm not okay. 

And I haven't been for a long time. 


What hurts the most is that I've been not okay right in front of people. Sitting on couches. At tables. In cars. In rooms full of voices and movement and life --- while I felt completely alone. 


It's such a mind-fuck, honestly. Being surrounded and still feeling invisible. 


I'll be sitting there, laughing at the right parts, answering when someone talks to me, nodding like I'm present, like I belong there. And inside, I'm screaming. Not quietly. Not softly. I mean chest-tight, can't breathe, body aching, screaming. But none of it comes out. It just stays trapped in me. 


And everyone just keeps talking. 


No one notices when I go quiet. 

No one notices when my smile starts feeling forced. 

No one notices when I disappear a little more every time. 


I don't think people understand how loud silence gets when you're hurting. It's not calm. It's not peaceful. It's heavy. It presses down on you until you feel like you're shrinking in real time. 


I've tried to give signs. I really have. 

I pull away. I stop talking about things that matter to me. I joke about my pain so it doesn't make anyone uncomfortable. I say "I'm tired" instead of "I'm breaking." I say "it's fine" when it absolutely isn't. 


I kept thinking someone would notice eventually. 


But no one ever does. 


And that part messes with your head more than the pain itself. Because you start wondering if you're doing something wrong. If you're not hurting correctly. If your pain doesn't look serious enough to deserve attention. 


So instead, I go to the bathroom. 


I lock the door. 

I sit on the cold tile floor.

Sometimes I don't even turn the light on. 


I cry there because it's the only place no one can see me falling apart. I cry into my hands so no one hears. I cry until my chest hurts and my head feels foggy and I don't even know what started it anymore. 


And then I look in the mirror. 


And the mirror doesn't lie to me -- it attacks me. 


It tells me all the awful things people have said. 

That I'm too much. 

Too sensitive. 

Too emotional. 

Not enough. 

Hard to love. 

Easy to ignore. 


It repeats the things my brain whispers when I'm alone. It tells me that maybe everyone else is right. Maybe this is why no one notices. Maybe this is why I feel so alone even when I'm surrounded. 


And in that moment, on the bathroom floor, with my face red and my eyes swollen, it all feels true. 


Every cruel thought feels like a fact. 

Every insecurity confirmed. 

Every fear feels proven. 


I sit there thinking. If I just stopped showing up one day... would anyone actually feel it? 


That thought hurts in a way I don't know how to explain without crying all over again. 


There's a shame in it too. A lot of shame. 

Like I should be grateful. Like I should be stronger. Like I should stop needing so much from people who clearly don't notice anyway. 


So I stop asking. 


I stop talking. 


I carry it by myself and tell myself that's just what adults do. 


But I'm 23 and I feel like I'm carrying things I shouldn't have had to carry alone. Things that sit in my chest and don't leave. Things that follow me even into rooms full of people who love me. 


I don't want attention. I don't want to be saved.

I just want someone to look at me and say "Hey... you don't seem okay," without me having to completely fall apart first. 


I don't know when it became my job to prove my pain is real. 


Sometimes it feels like I'm screaming through glass. Like everyone can see me but not hear me. Or hear me but not listen. Or listen but not care enough to stop and sit with me in it. 


And the scariest part is how normal this has started to feel. 


Like maybe this is just my life now.

Being the strong one. 

Being the quiet one. 

Being the one who's "fine."


But I'm not fine. 


I'm tired of crying on bathroom floors. 

I'm tired of mirrors being crueler than people. 

I'm tired of being invisible in rooms I show up for. 


If you're reading this and you're shocked, that's kind of the point. 

This is what it looks like when someone is hurting and you never knew. 


This is me saying the things I didn't know how to say out loud. 

This is me admitting that I needed more than I let on. 

This is me finally being honest instead of "okay."


I don't need fixing. 

I just needed someone to notice. 




~Morgan , All of Me <3






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