When I look in the mirror…
When you look at me, what do you see? Every day, I look at myself and wonder why I am still alive. After all the pain I have endured, all of the trauma I have been through, why am I still living? What is my purpose in life? I come from a rough background, but somehow I am not as cold as the people who were cold to me. People have told me that karma is a big coincidence. A thing that comes to bite you in the butt. I don’t believe in that. Karma is a joke. If karma was real, why hasn’t the ones that made me feel worthless got their payback? Why hasn’t vengeance been served? When I look in the mirror, I see the visible and invisible scars on my body and inside that I have to live with day after day. They cut across my body, my mind, my soul…when I look at myself in the mirror, I see a sad and desolate young woman, who hovers between having a little hope and no hope at all. Thinking of everything I have been through, I don’t see why I should see something positive in the mirror. People have come up to me asking why I look sad more days then when I look happy. Bipolar disorder is what the answer comes to. One of the many issues I have. No one is human if they don’t have at least one mood swing amonth, or even a week. However, I have mood swings every day. That’s what makes me different or unique as my elders would say. Looking in the mirror makes me realize how much insecurities I have about myself and what I need to work on. There has been plenty of times that I wanted to literally break the mirror because it made me angry knowing that I was weak. That I had insecurities that I didn’t know how to get rid of. I hated thatfeeling, that new knowledge I had obtained just by looking at a mirror. Being so insecure makes me wonder how other people feel when they look in the mirror. Do they feel as insecure as I am? Are they confident or maybe even arrogant? I find myself growing jealous of others strengths, because I wish I had their life, their securities within themselves. Unfortunately, I know that I will never have their life. When I look in the mirror, I see a girl who lives an original and doesn’t die a copy, but I also see a bitter girl who hates herself for everything she regrets, like the mistakes she made. This is what I see. Sometimes I like what I see, sometimes I don’t. Does that make me feel low sometimes? Yes, I admit it. However, I will not break down again. I refuse to.
Written by: Jamaica

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