In the Rearview (6 page)

I tried

I failed

I cannot overcome

I cannot rise above

I've held on this long

But I can't hold on anymore

Depression doesn't care if

you're Black or White, Hispanic or Asian

It doesn't care if

your clothes cost fifty cents or five-hundred dollars

Depression doesn't care if

you're popular or not

It doesn't care how

pretty you are inside or out

Depression doesn't care how

old or young you are

It doesn't care if

you have kids, grandkids, nieces or nephews

Depression doesn't care how

much you weigh, if you're skinny or fat

It doesn't care how

much or little makeup you wear

Depression doesn't care how

many possessions you have

It doesn't mind if

you're illiterate or a genius

Depression doesn't care

what religion you practice or who you worship

It doesn't care what

kind of movies you like to watch

Depression doesn't discriminate

I sit alone

In my room

Staring at the ceiling

Hoping to find the answers to my problems

The radio is on

And I faintly hear the music

I think I hear it say

.

She was alone

That was that

But he loved her still the same

And that's how our story goes

.

So I stop and think

And I begin to cry

When I think of what

I've just done

I can't begin to try and explain

What I feel inside

I can't try to tell you how much I hate my life

I hate everything

I think and feel

And the way I look and talk

Even the way I am inside

I hate life

And everything about it

And when I hate myself

I hate the things around me

And the people in my life

But most of all

I hate

The fact that I'm still alive

 

Meagan stumbled inside when she got home, tripping over her own feet. It had been one of those kinds of days. Rotten all around. But at least she was finally alone. No one would bother her if she just went to her bedroom until dinner.

These were the moments she cherished lately. Alone with her own thoughts, her own turmoil, her own frustration. When she was by herself, she didn't lash out at others or feel inadequate compared to their normalcy.

Meagan threw her backpack down the stairs as she headed to her bedroom. There wasn't enough energy left to carry it, not even to drag it by the straps. It was easier to just let it fly. And after trudging down the steps herself, she kicked it the rest of the way to her bedroom.

She knew it was a little childish, but it felt good to get out some aggression. Without release, everything just pent up inside her, and she was worried it would eventually eat her up alive, from the inside out.

As Meagan made contact with her bag, she imagined it was her own head she was kicking down the hallway. She even got close to giggling when she envisioned her eyes popping wide and her jaw dropping just before a hard punt through her doorway. But she didn't actually laugh.

Meagan never laughed anymore. Not honestly. Sometimes she faked it. But that didn't count. Not to her.

When she finally made it inside her room, she slammed the door closed behind her. There wasn't anyone around to hear, no one to be offended or yell about the noise, so, like the backpack, it felt good to allow a little release.

After slamming the door, Meagan flopped down onto her bed.

What a horrible, boring, nothing of a day she needed to forget.

****

Meagan knew how to forget. It worked for almost anything. It had been a few days since she'd cut, but today she needed it again.

She felt like she was on the brink of exploding, like she was about to fall from a cliff, and the only way to save herself from dying was to hurt herself, but only a little. Always just a little. The realignment of control would be good, needed even. It would allow Meagan to be in charge of her surroundings, her circumstances, her future.

If she didn't do something small to feel better, she knew she would spiral out of control to a place she couldn't get back from.

So Meagan propped herself up on her elbows. Once the decision was made, her nerves danced around. Adrenaline surged up high. Suddenly she wasn't as tired as she had been while stumbling into the house.

Meagan didn't want to use anything this time. No sharp objects, no pins, no knives. She had a lot going on, and she didn't need to cause herself even more problems with this temporary fix.

She scratched her fingernails along sensitive skin while listening to music and mentally preparing herself. The sounds and lyrics flowed through her. Her head floated up and away as her arm started to tingle. She was close, but still she hesitated.

The pain scared her or, rather, more the thought of the pain.

On the other hand, she wondered if, in the moment, she wouldn't feel enough and end up making a real scar that lasted longer and hurt more. She didn't want to hurt any more than she already did. That would defeat her purpose.

It was the exact opposite of her intention.

And the emotional pain that lingered scared her even more than any physical. Sometimes she wondered if she was screwing herself up more than the depression she was trying to fight through.

Probably, since she couldn't do anything right anyway.

But Meagan was only trying to help herself, to control what she could.

So in she dug with her nails. She'd had enough anticipation. Enough thinking. She just needed to feel. She made dozens of little crescent moons with her pointer and middle fingernails. Each puffed up and stung.

But each was little. Each was able to hide.

Each made her feel a little bit better.

She heard footsteps coming down the hall. Her younger sister was home, but hopefully she was heading to the living room to watch television. But she wasn't, and as Meagan's door swung open, her heart jumped into her mouth. She flung her comforter over her arm and whipped her head to the open door.

“What do you want?” s
he yelled sharply at Sapphire. She knew she shouldn't, yet she did regardless.

“Sorry. I-I forgot to knock. I just wanted to do something. I'm bored.”

Her guilt bubbled up in her stomach. Her sister just wanted to spend time with her. How horrible of a sister could Meagan be?

“Sure. Just give me a couple minutes. I need to finish my homework.” And she lied to top it all off.

“Okay, great!”

Meagan tried not to cry as her sister closed her bedroom door.

She tried, but she failed.

A little lie here

A little lie there

I ask what's wrong

And lies are all I hear

Nothing's wrong you say

Then why do you cry

Day after day

And why do I cry too

Why do we lie

Why can't we trust someone

And let them in

We'd feel better

But I know I can't

And that's just how it is

I'm looking for something

I don't know how to find

I'm searching for someone

Whose face and name I do not know

I'm trying to locate

My happiness

From inside someone else

How do you find a soul mate

When you yourself aren't whole

I'm searching for something

I'm not sure I'm supposed to find yet

The pain that you shove into me

Hitches my breath

And shatters my resolve

Cutting deep into my safe place

Cannot handle what is expected of me

You ask way too much of me

And the worst part is

You don't even realize

How much you are asking

You are so unfair

And you don't even see it

You twist the pain deeper

Bruising me in places

And ways

I didn't even know existed

Didn't know you could touch

Didn't know you could reach so deep

I'm weaker than I thought

Mad at myself for breaking down

I want to pretend not to love you

But God knows I do

And when I say I understand

You've got to know I do

And although I love you

It's hard for me to watch you

Do the things you do

By hurting yourself

You're hurting me

And I'm just getting over

And struggling with this awful thing

I cannot stand to watch you do this

It makes me want to cry

As I watch you hurt yourself

I badly want to do it too

And I want to say I love you

Because I can't deny it

And if you love me too

God knows you do

You'll stop

For me

If not for you

I do know what I'm doing

Dear Diary,

Unfortunately I found out what would happen if this thing kept spreading like a plague. Someone who didn't understand opened her big mouth to the school counselor. He is too old and too out of touch to understand
anything
. His knowing isn't helpful at all. That is not what any of us needed.

It was not what I need.

At some point
I
became
we
, and we don't need anyone on the outside. We especially don't need an adult so different from us telling us what we're doing is wrong and destructive. That's obvious. We know it full well. What we're doing is stupid, but our choices are ours and ours alone to make.

We choose to give into a teenage statistic with our harmful actions. Regardless of the outcomes, each choice is intentional. Our decisions are driven by purpose; we are not accidentally doing anything. We are intentionally self-destructing.

We don't need to be told the effects of our actions; these are the results we were looking for. We live out the effects of our actions, and we choose to stop or continue. Since we chose when to start, we should be allowed to choose when to stop. Just as all other individuals get to decide their fate, we expect the same allowance.

However, I do wish our other friends understood better. I don't expect them to know what's actually going on in our heads or our hearts. They won't have the same feelings. But somehow, I was hoping they would be better friends and not rat us out.

When they found out what we were doing, I expected to be spoken to directly, given a chance to express my side, and to be able to prevent the intervention of any adults. But unfortunately, I was tattled on like a toddler. My counselor doesn't understand.

At. All.

Today he spoke to us like we were four year olds. He treated us as if we were small children lacking the capability to reason. He seemed to presume we had no ideas about the real world or the consequence of what we were doing. The only good thing that came out of it was that he trusted us to tell our own parents.

What an idiot!

That will never happen.

I'm sitting in the dark

In a world all by myself

There seems to be no one around me

Although I have friends everywhere

I am oblivious to what surrounds me

And deny what I'm told

I can't see the love

Everyone has for me

I can't realize how wonderful I am

There's too much in the way

My self-esteem is low

And my worries seem to grow

I'm all alone sitting in the dark room