A moment in the hell
Iím lying in this cold unfamiliar hospital bed, wondering what Iím going to do with the rest of my life. It hasnít ended, and Iím not sure whether or not to be happy about it. Theyíve put me here, trying to make me heal. But I donít think that having to stay here away from my life is helping any.
Itís cold in this room, not just because of the windowless walls. Everything in this place screams and reminds me of what Iíve done. I feel naked, stripped of all defenses, so extremely vulnerable as I lie here letting others control my life. This place is such a symbol of all that is wrong with me, now that Iím in here I canít hide anything, everyone knows that Iím not sane. I just want to leave so bad.
Iíve finally come clean, you could say. Realized that what I was, a self assured projection of a girl, was nothing but a thin lie. All of itís gone now, in one foul swoop Iíve shown my true colors and stepped over that line that you caní t cross again. Iím not too sure how this is supposed to help me anyway. Sure theyíve sent me to a doctor, who asked more questions than I wanted him to, and put me on these pink pills, but so far all thatís made me want to do is sleep. Sleep and recount every past anxiety that put me into this place.
So here I am, my soul bleeding, laying lifeless on my bed.. Sure my heart beats, my lungs fill with air, but my self is choking, gasping for air. Itís a war, a war between my emotions and me. And I think itís safe to say, Iím losing, very badly
My eyes shut and my brain becomes silent for a moment. A sweet relief, but the moment passes and they start attacking once more.
I sit up with a startled gasp and look around the room, it makes me sick. I canít look at anything without being reminded of some past anxieties. My bed is little, itís supposed to have a quilt and matching pillows on it, but there lost under mounds of clothes.
ďLynn!Ē My mom screams from downstairs, I can hear her faint voice but I pretend like Iím deaf. ďLynn Brookson, you get down here right now!Ē My body freezes hoping that if I stay still long enough Iíll become invisible. She screams once again, and I know that sheís counting down the seconds until she becomes enraged. I gather my small amount of energy and run to the door.
ďHomework!Ē I choke, ďIím doing my homework.Ē I hear her mumbling her annoyance from the downstairs. Of course she talks loud enough for me to hear, it isnít a secret that sheís disappointed in me. My body shakes, and small beads of sweat gather on my forehead. It doesnít register that Iím making myself physically ill with worry. I grasp the brass door handle trying to steady myself from the in vertigo thatís setting in. My view pulls away from my body and I can see myself standing there at the doorway of my room, shaking, grasping the door, knowing that if I let go Iíll fall through the ground. The feelings are tormenting, throbbing pains of worry. Circling, choking pain. And than all at once I collapse on the ground, my feelings manifesting in small amounts of water flooding from my eyes. ďI canít do this anymore,Ē I cry. I curl myself in the fetal position and sniffle quietly to myself. And what makes it all worse is that nobody knows, I alone burden all my pain.
Morning comes faster than I want it to. I wake up knowing that this is just a prelude to the hell that Iím going to face today. At this moment Iíd sell my left arm for five more minutes of sleep. I take a shower, dry my hair and put on makeup. My costume is complete and Iím ready to deceive the world once again. I sigh to myself as I look in the mirror. The dark brown hair, the green eyes, Iíd be a whole lot prettier if I smiled once in a while. I smile at myself but it looks unnatural, forget it Iíll never be pretty.
I gather my stuff, all my sloppy junk, and stuff it into my back pack. My mom looks at me, an undeterminable blank stare. ďYou ready?Ē she asks, banging the keys impatiently on her thigh. I sigh, boiling all my emotional turmoil into a single breath of air. I shrug my shoulders indifferently and trudge off to the car. The air outside is frozen, stinging cold that chills through even the thickest parts of my coat. The lawn lay sprawled in front of my house, frosted with sparkles of dew frozen on the tips of the blades. ďHave a good day,Ē my mom calls from the car as I slam the van door behind me. I know that she means well but through all of her ignorance I have no need for her. I whimper a small smile in return. Theyíre all like that.
Itís a shame that my parents gave up so soon. After all the pubescent years of rejection that I had given them; I suppose they just decided everything now was just a matter of hormones. Even now as I emerge out of that phase of life, theyíve decided itís just easier to shrug your shoulders and blame the pain on something uncontrollable. There small effort to find me leaves us distanced and awkward. The want for them is throbbing, for just something as simple as a small hug. But our fear of rejection keeps us clinging to our comfort zones and leaving me alienated and alone. Sure I have siblings but there lives are made up of recess and Scooby Doo. How can you explain suicidal thoughts to a six year old?
I donít want to be like this, Iíve realized that for a long time now. But this is all I know how to be, how my brain tells me to be. I wonder all the time what it would be like to be happy. Do they, all those who can genuinely smile, know what they have? After all happiness is what everyone strives for, in the end isnít that what everything's about? They see in Black and White, but me, I only see darker and darker shades of grey.