Early twenties crisis

So there I was, early twenties crisis. Something I was battling with for quite some time, at least it was how it felt like (it seemed eternal). Tears were beginning to role all over my face, ruining my mascara and my entire impeccably well done make up. And what could I do? I knew what my problem was; at least what thought that was the problem, I had no boyfriend.

“Oh my feet! How much they hurt right now”. I wore these incredibly hurtful shoes all day long, 15 inches, can you believe it? All this to impress men, and was it worth it? Not in this particularly moment I would say.

I walk to my bathroom and I think: I need to take a shower. But I’m not strong enough to take a shower; I just wanna throw myself in the bed and cry all night long for being alone up until now (and till who knows when!).

I was afraid it was depression all over again, mostly because yesterday I watched a TV program that talked just about that. And about the millions of people that suffer from this mental illness, showing statistics that said that 20 years from now having depression would be like having the flu.

Sorry, I’ve already been there, already did my time – I think. It was like just some weeks ago, I had my nervous breakdown, only work related (as hard as it might be to believe, there were no men involved with the felling that brought me my slog).

A night at the hospital being sedated, and a month of highly strong anti-depressants. Hard times that now were only memories and a lot of learning. So moments passes by as clean up my face. Then I remember about my college friends who are already married, and what said to them hours before:

-       You know, I believe it must be so much easier to be you, I mean you’re already married, so that means the hunt is over. And you already have a man, no need to be desperate.

They did not argue or disagreed, as well as they did not agree. The next day I have a full day, actually a day full of doctors (I love doctors; I wish one of them would my boyfriend or even more, my hubbie).

The reason for that was: to be a gorgeous, thin, sexy, healthy and all worked up young woman that had  5 feet 8 and weighed  50 quilos, you needed to have doctors all around for quite some time, not only doctors but some professionals that were essential for my day-by-day.

I mean dermatologist, ophthalmologist, nutritionist, physiotherapist, orthopedist, acupuncturist, yoga trainer, gym trainer, dentist, and of course a therapist.

It was obvious that the only reason I do all that was because my daddy could afford it. It was like everything, my daddy could afford: my car, my house, my bills (credit card, phone), restaurants, trips, and my doctors. I was sick of that, but what could I do, get a rich husband? I was planning and trying to.

Besides all that, my daddy was going to pay for something else too, my acting career. ‘Cause he knew that even after I start to receive my salaries it wouldn’t be enough to support the life I was used to. And he pitied me.

Smile dammit! I said to myself, always keep smiling, never stop smiling. People will notice, people always notices these stuff. Hide everything that you're felling and just smile. It did not work out, as you imagined.