Fake it 'til you make it.

That was something I'd always believed in; something I thought would carried out for the rest of my life, because hey, who cares if I'm happy, right? It's what everyone else thinks that's more important. It's what everyone else thinks of me that should matter, and not my own thoughts and my rule and what I think I should do or feel comfort with. This is what I know, or at least, use to know.

I'm not so sure anymore.

When I was little, I always thought of myself as a crowd pleaser; someone who was willing to do anything to make other people happy. At first, I thought it was because what made them happy, would make me happy too. I never thought of my own happiness, because I was a selfless person like that. Didn't think much of it, in fact, I didn't think about it at all, until I got older, stuck between a hard place and a rock, and have nowhere to go, because of my lack ambitions and endless self-doubt. Sometimes, I like to believe that where I am is my fault. I did this, I caused this, and I was just getting what I deserve. Sounds depressing, but really, I'm not a depressing person. At least, I thought I wasn't. At nights, I like to reflect back on everything I'd learned this far into my life, and when I start to see the change, as small as it may, I knew I couldn't lie to myself.

I wasn't  happy. There was something missing, something inside of me that I couldn't quite figure out, and even now, I still can't. I questioned myself time after time again, wondering what the heck has changed within me, besides growing up.

Have I simply gotten older than I feel? Sometimes, I like to think this is the answer to all my troubles, and maybe, just maybe, I thought I could changed that. I couldn't.

I was in a deep struggle of self-control and just losing it; why do I feel the way that I do? Why does everyone think there's something wrong with me? Is there something wrong with me? Was there some sort of disorder that I was born with and the doctors simply overlooked it? Why, why, why?

That's all that really pops in my head. The questions of why's, and never the answer to it. Sometimes, I do come up with an answer, but then that just turns into more answers and sometimes those answers don't really help. Sometimes, I think it's just because I suffer some really low self-esteem, hence the result of the why's and the never-ending answers. But then, what makes a self-esteem? The fact I have to fake my emotions, put a smile on my face, and just pray for a better day? I hate pretending to be someone I'm not. So why do I keep doing it? Why am I like this? Why wasn't I born as someone else? Just why?

Why did it take so long to figure out, that I'm just being myself?