Unveiling

"We never are what we intend, or invent
'Cause I make little lies and then I pull them apart
Think something dark's living down in my heart..."
-Brand New, At the Bottom

All of my life, I've been made to feel inferior.  Some of it was intentional.  Some of it was not.  Either way, the result was never feeling good enough.  Subconsciously, I've overcompensated for that feeling of inferiority by trying to perfect myself.  While my body and mind is a mess, my everything else has to be immaculate.  Everything I put out into the world has to represent perfection so no one knows what a piece of useless garbage I really am.  That's why I have great handwriting and keep my work so organized.  It's why I am polite and have tact.  It's why I offer good advice and listen intently.  It's why I made good grades and never got into trouble.  I walked the straight and narrow path because I thought that would make up for lacking confidence.  I never wanted to engage in any behavior that would raise eyebrows or set off whispers.  I've always acted in the best interest of others, never of myself.  I thought if I did everything that I believed was right, things would change, that I would feel good about myself.  If I followed the rules, it would pay off somehow, some day.

I have made it my life's work to take the route of the good and humble, to do good things and be a good person to everyone.

But where has that gotten me?

Nowhere.

My whole life has been a lie.  My outward feelings have been false.  My character is not truly me.  It's all been carefully crafted to create someone else, someone who would be good enough, someone worthy of acknowledgment instead of judgment.  I'm so preoccupied with being perfect that I'm not being anymore.  My looks are Photoshopped.  My attitude is artificially sweetened.  My words are romanticized.  Everything you've ever read, everything you thought you knew was wrong.  It was not an intentional misdirection or outright lie on my part.  It was merely me trying to mold myself into someone I thought was better than who I actually was.  All the rejection from so many people.  Finally, I followed everyone else's lead and rejected myself.  That rejection formed a resurrection into the good boy, artist, sensitive writer, non-drinker, non-smoker, Christian, vegetarian, people pleaser.  The reliable one.  The funny one.  None of that is me.  I've tried to cover up my true nature and did a pretty good job of it until everything began to unravel, events in my life unveiling the emptiness within.  There are no words that can soothe me, no touch that can restore me.  I am tired.  I am giving in to the terrible person that has always been there, hiding away under the layers of fat and feigned kindness. 

My entire being has been broken down and built back up with fabrications. All admirable efforts.  All failures.  Rejected again.  The worst part was it was all for nothing.

Consequently, I am nothing.

I am dead.

I am a monster.

I am nothing.

I am nothing.

Let me show you...