Mary's Voice
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“Unseen And Unheard” : From Another Planet


It is said that we are like chameleons. Can adapt to any role… with any crowd, as scared as we are of the crowd. But that is exactly why we do this. It’s why I do. One minute I can be the life of the party and the next you may see me standing in the corner observing, so unseen. As to avoid being attacked. Life is like this. People are like this. And sometimes I don’t want to be a chameleon at all. Sometimes I don’t want to just blend in. Sometimes I just want to be normal. Have normal emotions. Have normal reactions and thoughts. But what is normal but just another stereotype? What if we are the normal ones? But considered aliens. So foreign. They don’t understand us. But we understand them. Probably better than they will ever understand themselves. This is our dilemma. This is our unseen battle. Probably the kindest people you will ever meet while that kindness is mistaken for so many other things. Accused of attacking while feeling we are the ones being attacked. Holding a guard high because of miscommunication. I get defensive. I protect my heart sometimes lashing out at others because it is all I have ever known. I practice the unlearning of this behavior but some scars are so deep. Some scars no-one knows about. Not even those closest to us. Not even if they think they know. They don’t. I won’t let them. Sometimes the pain just sits there unable to be heard or healed. Sometimes I am just a little girl who wants the bad people to stop hurting me. Sometimes, I wish just one person could read my mind and my heart as to know, I am not angry. I am just the opposite… feeling trapped. And I have no idea how to make it stop or go away. Sometimes people just show up at the wrong time. I don’t blame them for this pain. I just wish they understood it.  images (1)

I just wish they could feel it for even a second. Maybe then, they wouldn’t be so quick to put me in a box and cast me aside. Maybe then, I might finally have a moment of peace knowing that at least one person tried to accept me for me. Instead of trying to change me. And I could finally stop hiding and just trying to blend in with the people who have no true idea of who I really am. Maybe then I might finally come out of the corner and I would no longer be a chameleon. I could finally just be Mary. And just one person would stay.

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This entry was posted in: Mary's Voice


I am a writer. I am an artist. I love people. And understanding human behavior has become a hobby. It becomes imperative when you're trying to understand your own. I have Borderline Personality Disorder. To me, it means many things. On some days it means the most extraordinary imagination one could have. On other days it means it is the absolute end of the world when that vision gets distorted and dismissed. Sometimes I feel like it is the best part of me and sometimes I feel like I wish I had never been born. Some days it is pure black and some days pure light. I have a daily battle to find my Grey; my middle ground. It is not just a diagnosis. It's a state of mind. But this is not all that I am. I am still discovering myself one wonder at a time.


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