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No matter what I say, you aren't going to listen anyway.

What most people don't ever realize about me is that I am a REALLY GOOD LIAR. Sounds shocking, doesn't it? I don't lie to make people mad, I don't lie to hurt anyone's feelings, I simply lie to hide my own feelings. Be honest - would you still talk to me and be friends with me if I was Eeyore? No. You wouldn't.
I have to lie in order to have friends. No one wants to hang out with someone who is perpetually sad. A lot of people have told me that I have so much that I shouldn't be sad. I have a good job, a loving husband, good friends, a nice place to live, food in the fridge, and clothes on my back. Great - I have some things. But do the bad things outweigh the good? Let's see.

- In-laws who lie to my husband and I with every word out of their mouths.
- A father who always says he'll call back, but never does.
- A step-mother who says she loves and misses me, then talks shit about me when I'm not around.
- A mother that can't get out of bed and take care of herself, so my grandparents and I have to take care of her.
- Two sets of grandparents who are soon likely to need my assistance in daily life.
- A disease that affects every aspect of my life, with no cure or decent treatment available. One that has destroyed my hopes of being a mother, and doomed me to a life rittled with weight problems.
- A mental illness that makes the sad times even more sad, and the happy times seem like a freak show.
- A husband, who, although he loves me dearly, couldn't take over the responsibilities as the head of the household if something happened to me.
- A list of people I consider friends, but rarely see, and that only happens if I have planned it and paid for everything, or if I drive all the way to them, because the possibility of coming to my side of the world, if just even once, is out of the question.
- A home packed full of boxes because I don't have the mental or physical ability to unpack.
Do I need to start listing the little things as well?

I go home every night after work, so mentally exhausted that I don't want to do anything. I can make plans and lists all day long, but as soon as I get in the car, the drive to do anything disappears. I buy groceries to cook good, healthy meals - but the food rots in the fridge because cooking drains what little energy I may have out. I tried to do yoga - but realized that the way I was taught to breathe does not coincide with the poses meant to be relaxing. Nothing is relaxing if you can't breathe. I have scrapbook and stamping supplies wasting away in boxes, Christmas presents unwrapped, dozens of puzzles unopened, piles of unhanged pictures, and all these dreams of just once not watching tv for a night.

And when I finally do get off the couch or out of bed, like to force myself to clean and cook for one of my 'parties' (which rarely, if ever, does more than half of the guest list show up), I am so stressed out that I don't want anyone coming over anymore. But I put on my fake smile and force myself to try and enjoy the evening - even though I know that I likely won't get any thanks for it. (If the 2 people who have told me thank you for the parties are reading this, you have no idea how much your thanks means to me.)

When we were in college, we saw our friends at least 3 nights a week. I know that life changes after college, and it becomes a lot more difficult to see each other. It just hurts me that we have grown so far apart. One friend in particular could know just by being near me if something was wrong. It doesn't happen anymore. Things are worse now than they ever were in school, and you can't see it.

If I fell off the face of the Earth, how long would it take for you to notice I was gone? No, I'm not talking about suicide. I couldn't do that to myself or my family, so don't be concerned. But in all seriousness, if I stopped texting you and stopped posting on Facebook, how long would it take for you to miss me?

So I lie to you to hide all of this - it's a necessary evil to have some connection to the outside world. I waste hundreds of dollars a month on pills and doctors to be normal again so I don't have to lie, but in the end it does no good. I'd rather save myself the money and just lay in bed all day, forgetting about all the responsibilities I have - because I have no reason to keep lying. I'm tired of lying. I'm tired of being unhappy all the time.

And if you are thinking "Wow, she's being overdramatic and a drama queen", you continue to think that. Go ahead and continue being inconsiderate. I don't do this to be dramatic. I do this, begging for help, so sooner or later someone will finally realize that I do really need help.

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