Master of Disguise

A month has come and gone. My mask still firmly in place. It has become an automatic part of my daily routine. My tired hand will rest on the door as I place this mask upon my face. A deep breath and let it hide the truth. So many fooled. They easily accept this lie. A false smile reassures them and allows them to carry on without faking any concern. I force occasional laughs to really seal the illusion of my happiness. It’s easier then it once was. the return of my bubbly personality has been accepted and a character it seems I play well.

Although the realization that I now play a part of someone I truly used to be is agonizing. “She” is easy to play but I suffer more each day when I retire my disguise. I can feel the weight of it upon me even when removed.

I can’t give up now! I can’t allow anyone else to see my weakness!

Exhausted and battered I barely step past the threshold of my door before I am sinking to the floor. My shirt catches the wall as I grow closer to the floor and my knees bend forming a place for my head to fall onto. My arms slack to my sides. I must have left the television on as the dialogue from its speakers hum in the background. My restless eyes stare blankly at the screen. The taste of ash lingers on my tongue from my last cigarette, yet the pack that lay upon the counter calls to me. Do I surrender myself to it again or remain here? Motionless and acutely aware of the emptiness that fills the room.

My phone silent. No incoming calls from someone that may actually be concerned with how I am faring today. I almost laugh as I realize my deception has freed me yet simultaneously isolated me. I have successfully convinced everyone or they chose not to bother themselves with the truth.

Truth. Such a powerful word. So rarely practiced amongst us all. The taste of my deception is bitter on my tongue and heavy in my heart. I have adapted to this false way of being. The only truth I have denied myself is the reality of how weak I have become. My skin is filthy with the lies. It burns like acid rain relentlessly pouring from the dark skies above. I yearn for someone to offer truth regardless of what it may be. I want to bathe in the pureness it holds. I beg for any power that wills it so. I want to be in the presence of anyone who will not taint the moment with deception and lies. Someone with whom I can break free of this mask that suffocates me. The air grows thick with the desperation emanating from me. I pity myself. Pitiful. Weak. Worthless. Undeserving. This is what I have become.


5 thoughts on “Master of Disguise

  1. See, here’s my trouble when reading posts like this one: I just don’t think with that kind of depth, but this is by design, not ignorance, and that’s the rub.

    See, if I thought with that level of depth and clarity, I’d drive myself nuts, literally.

    The first thing I ask myself, as I’m reading this post, is why do you do this to yourself?


    • There are times when I truly do feel that I have lost my mind and gone nuts. I have been through some very trying times, mainly results of my own bad, or hasty, decisions. Some very close friends from my past were very spiritual and on a path to enlightenment. They had always tried to advise me that emotions are merely a reaction and that we control our own reactions. They could not understand why I would “dwell” in my sorrows. It took me a very long time to not be ashamed of my emotions. I was not them, I was me. I fully admit I feel the downs deeper than most, but I also experience the most indescribable joys. However, there has to be some way to release the darkness I often find myself in. Guess what, it’s writing. 🙂


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