Rebellion: refusal to accept some authority, code or convention.
My illness is my rebellion; it is my body giving up and my soul screaming out “I cannot be stifled anymore”. I am a coward a weak person and have never had the confidence to stand up for myself, I’ve waited all this time and now my subconscious has taken over. My soul is the voice that has never been heard my soul is what is crushing me day by day hour by hour. People talk about depression with a somewhat prejudiced and blasé attitude. Let me open your eyes and let you peep into my world, a world of sadness, where hopelessness and pain flow through my veins, until every organ and every cell is a dark cave of despair. My whole body is screaming with exhaustion shouting “set me free”. My heart is smashed into tiny pieces and I can’t sleep because of the fear that at night, all the violence that I have been accustomed to will rear its ugly head and I will once again be in your clutches.
You call me a rebel but i am not a rebel i am a small child under your rule and i am crying for someone to look past the rebellion and see me for who I am.
Acceptance turns rebellion on its head and that’s all i am asking for from you, who is supposed to love me to see past the tough exterior that I have had to put on to protect me from becoming the victim, the persecuted, and help me become a survivor.