I'm not writing this because I want to suicide or have a real disease. I write this to you who found it, I've ever be there real in the world. Till I wrote this, I still don't understand to whom I was meaningful.
When I face myself in the mirror while combing my tangled curly hair, I see that little girl with a messy mind and start crying. Like I have been thinking this whole life. She suffered so much, yet happiness finds a small measure to be done. I am not an artist, a celebrity, an inspiring figure yet a successful money maker. But many people have their hard time in life, some even end up still hard to be alive easily. Ijust want to flush it out by write this memo. And this is my story...
I am the oldest of my family and the only daughter that she had. I have brothers. I never tell people about it, even my husband. What's the real number of my brothers were. They are three, not only one. I'm so scared to death to tell about it. The rest two has very young age, even the lastest were born when I was 22 yo. It's quite intrigue. I have many allegation, they might not gonna believe it's my brother. Now I still have that heavy in my mind. The lastest been adopted by my high school English teacher, I hope he lives happily with his new family out there. The third lived with my mom, in my hometown with my step-dad. And the second been somewhere I'll never tell, he's alive.
My dad passed away when I was 22, when my latest brother just born. I lost that part of memory because my brain refuse to remember it. Human's brain will protect its cell by removing the most negative part of memory to prevent from damage. So I ran away from my responsibility to Capital and living my life there for at least one year until I brave my self to contact home.
Facing a reality that my lovely home been sold by her and she got hit by her own brother by running away our money from selling the home. The rest of money, she bought a small house, under-qualified house. Then things happen again, that I am so mad at her, then agree that my smallest brother been adopted and she re-married again with my step-dad. I can't hate him, I have not any single reason. I just question myself, what made you into this decision without asking me first if I agree or not, have you ever figure out that I mean something to welcome someone with head-role in our family? I wonder no is the answer, maybe I've never existed in you life mom.
Two years of that tumbled time, I conclude that I don't need to check myself to psychiatric anymore, I have mental issues. I don't know what they categorized it, bipolar or self-symptom or schizophrenia or anything hell I don't care about the name. That I am sick. I need to help myself.
So I met this man, I throw him stones and he's not pushing back. It's my time to regret. I'll give it to him. A thing called love. I'll start to learn it. He might not that boy who I love the most but going out somewhere else, he might not that boy who admit he had also 'mental issues' but the truth is he's just ashamed he's with me or the boy who I think my bestfriend but end-up with who (I think too) my girl-bestfriend and hide it behind my back this whole time.
