I want to like myself.

   At first I started looking for pictures that I could use to browse through and hopefully be able to feel the strength again that I once had. All it did was stress me out, make me wonder how I got to this point and why I let myself get here. Half the time I don't know what to do, and the other half I'm trying to create ways to better myself like writing in a journal or creating yet another blog that someone might someday read.
   I'm the only one who can say that I am not strong, and I do say it. But I can also say that I have the ability to be strong for everyone else. Although I do let stress and negativity overcome me on a daily basis, I would do anything to stop someone else from feeling that way. Words of encouragement only go so far, and I constantly find myself striving to find other ways to keep people up on these inhumain pedestals that I construct in my mind. Do these people deserve to be there? Maybe, maybe not. But do they deserve to be happy? Of course.
   I've never found that there are strength in numbers. I for one constantly feel smaller and smaller the more people are there. I never was one to enjoy attention, being the center of attention, or having someone highlight qualities that I somehow posses for the whole world to see, but people still have the ability to make me feel like i'm a centimeter tall. I fight it, and it's a fight that I continually lose. 
  Why then, do I fight so hard against other's demons whilst allowing my own to slowly creep into my mind and take over? The thought of darkness is alluring, calming and down right seductive. Sleep never lasts long enough, and I always attempt for more as if it's a piece of death that I can hold onto without harming those around me. 
  Not sure if this will ever get read by anyone or not, and who knows, maybe something I say can bring to light some things that people are running from, but the workings of my mind are something that I am only beginning to understand, and it scares me that I have so much power beneath my flesh. My mind works much harder than the one within the body of a more simple person, I can't even imagine some of the people I know having to deal with some of the thoughts that I deal with on a daily basis.
   Do you know what's comforting though? The fact that I have words. We all have words. Wether or not you can find them on a page or you are blessed enough to be able to put words into an immaculate conversation in real life, the words are still there and they hold the ability to change someone's life. Words have certainly changed my life, even after I knew I had a passion for them, especially when it comes to reading some of the brilliant novels I have come across in my day. Using words and finally saying the things that scare me the most out loud is probably the reason why I have the ability to write down anything at all. My demons were eating away at me silently, as the fake girl I managed to construct lived her every day life. Little did I know that I would someday have to face the tough choice of living or dying at my own hand, as I'm sure many people have unfortunately had to do so, and just saying it out loud to someone was what gave me the tools I needed to battle the demons that were taking over my mind.
   Now, mind you, I clearly have some work to do with eliminating the "fake" girl and finding the real one in here somewhere, and I'm sure that some of the people I now call friends may not like her, but I'm sure I will like her. And for once, I want to like myself.