The Reason Why I’m Quiet
Tired and depressed, I silently suffer.
Supposedly people like me. They say I am nice.
But I cannot speak, for fear of the consequences.
I cannot admit failure, for people will think I am incompetent.
I won’t be able to get a job or get new clients.
If I tell people about something fun I did or a game I played, they assume I don’t do any work.
If I work all day, and fail to produce the result, they assume I didn’t put in any effort in at all.
When I do accomplish things, if I talk about my accomplishments, they act like I am boring and arrogant.
I cannot share alternate points of view, for fear someone might get offended.
I cannot fight for the truth to be told without being told to STFU or being called names or harassed.
People are too sensitive and way too invested in whatever they already believe to be challenged in any way.
I cannot share my hopes and dreams without being told to give up my dreams.
I cannot share my emotions without being told to suck it up and be a man.
If I show any hesitancy, sadness or depression, then I am weak.
If I do not live according to their life plans for me, then I am delusional and misguided.
They mean well, but in the end, suck the very will to live out of me.
So I stay silent, quiet in my depression, wishing I could just be me.
Or rather, I wish I could be the me I always wanted to be, but am not.
In the end, maybe I am all those things they say I am.
Maybe I am nice.
Maybe I am an ass.
Maybe I am a failure.
Maybe I am a success.
Maybe I am boring.
Maybe I am interesting.
Maybe I am arrogant.
Maybe I am humble.
Maybe I am stubborn and strong.
Maybe I am weak and soft.
Maybe I have dreams and hope for the future.
And maybe I am just a misguided fool.
I don’t know anymore. But I do know, I must stay silent.
I can’t take the abuse anymore.
My will is fading.
And I have no friends.