1I laid in my bed, staring at the ceiling. Another day had gone by. I began to bite my lips like I usually do when I got too wrapped in my thoughts. The day was April 25th. I could feel a bit of my depression settling in. The endless and lulling sound of cars whooshing by after a late night rain wasn't helping much either.
I felt my throat suddenly dry up and a lump forming within it. As soon as I tried to ignore it and clear my throat, tears began to form. I quickly, desperately attempted to blink them away and recompose myself. But, it was to no avail. I hated this feeling so much. It was so suffocating, so physically draining, even more so emotionally.
"Why?" I whispered to myself, rolling over and burying my face into the pillow. I covered my head with the blanket and stifled my sudden need to sob with the gritting of my teeth. "Why does this always happen? It doesn't make any sense."
I was tired and angry of this sudden feeling of despair coming over me so often. One moment I would be standing enjoying the warmth of the sun and then I would be trapped under the darkness of cloudy skies. The only thing that made this much more frustrating about it all was that I couldn't find the trigger; I didn't know what led to me feeling like this and it just didn't make sense.
At that moment, I heard that familiar squeal as my door was pushed open. I didn't move from my position; not a single muscle movement. I knew it was my mother and I knew she would have called me for some "super important task", but I wasn't in the mood to help anybody, let alone in the mood to leave my own room.
I felt the light from the hallway push away the darkness of my bedroom, but it wasn't bright enough to push away the darkness in my spirit. I felt her stare at me "sleeping", felt her judging me. The sensation of her judgemental stare was enough to make my muscles tense but I forced them, willed them not to move an inch under the scrutiny of my mother.
¨Yeah, just act like you're sleeping. Lazy!¨ I heard her say in a low voice. ¨I don't know what's wrong with you these days. Like you aren't even my kid.¨
I felt her turn and the sound of her retreating steps, going back to her room to go to sleep like she always does. I sat up and stared at my door, my blood boiling. Who the hell was she to look down at me? Like I´m not even your kid?! I´ve never heard a person so ungrateful! I sacrifice my own time and my own personal life in order to help out this damn woman and all I get in return are hypocritical statements and hurtful criticism. Of course, I'm not her kid if she doesn't act like my mother. I mean, what kind of mother tells her son right to his face when he decides to finally tell his family that he has depression that she doesn't care and would not even care if he killed himself, and even goes as far to say that he could go ahead and kill himself if he wants?
The day she said that to me, I finally understood what kind of person she was, what monster of a being that she had become. From that point on, I saw a person who was so self-absorbed in her own livelihood that she could not even bring herself to care about her children. Maybe that's why she was so adamant about me staying home for college. Lately, she has been really up my ass about going to Jameson University. But I have no intention of setting foot there. I didn't work that hard all throughout high school just for it to be wasted in a college that didn't even have my intended major, just because she was afraid to be alone in the house and so she could conveniently have me nearby for her complimentary ridiculous tasks. I was sick of having to attend to other people and not being allowed to attend to my own self. I wanted to be away from my mother, I wanted to be away from home, I wanted to actually have a smile on my face that for once wasn't a mask for my true feelings, and I wanted to not have this cloudy sky over me. The clouds became much darker and heavier as my throat dried up and tears formed once more. I threw my face into the pillow again, hoping to silence my sobbing and to my relief, I finally fell asleep.
Two to three hours later, I woke up to the sound of Skype ringing on my laptop. I rolled over to look at the screen. It was Lillian. She must have just woken up. I didn't want to be around anyone or talk to anyone, I just wanted to be left alone. I contemplated not answering, but I knew she would have started panicking and worrying. She tends to get like that. There was no reason for her to feel bad and feel that way just because I felt shitty and was too worried about myself.
I accepted the call. Her face popped up on my screen. Her room was still dark and the only way I was able to see her was the dim light that was reflecting off of her face from her computer screen. She still looked sleepy and her dark long hair was a mess and all over the place. She yawned and grabbed a thick furry blanket and curled up in it as she stared at me through the screen. I could never understand what it was, but even when the forecast looked so dire and dreadful as it did at that moment, she somehow made the sunshine come through. I couldn't help but smile. Her face changed from one of fatigue to one of elation as she returned a smile back to me. Her smile had this way of making my heart skip a beat. The tightness I felt in my chest before had dissipated and I began to feel better. She mouthed the words "good morning" to me and I smiled, returning her greeting.
This is how my days have been going as of late. I would lay in bed and wallow in my depression - hating everything around me, hating myself, hating having to be alive, and hating having to deal with the pain of it all. Then, I would talk to Lillian which makes me feel better, happier for the day. But that happiness is only momentary, only lasting from our first contact until either of us fall asleep. I simply just wake up the next morning feeling exactly the same as I did the day before.
Lillian sat up in the bed and readjusted herself. "You okay?" Lillian asked.
"I'm fine," I answered, forcing a reassuring smile.
She smiled back at me and nodded, mouthing the word "okay". She disappeared from the view of her webcam for a moment as she leaned over to her left, probably to grab her phone. She looked at it, checking a text message most likely. I quit my fake smile and opened up a game on my computer. I needed a distraction and the best way to do that was by playing a game.
Lillian must have sensed that I was just hiding my emotions. "Are you sure?" I heard her voice ask, soft and concerned. I looked at the Skype tab in the corner and saw her staring at me, her face masked with apprehension.
I shook my head and typed into the chat to her.
No... I'm not okay. But I will be. I'll be fine.
She read it and looked at me, still concerned. She began to type back.
Okay. If you say so.
She understood that talking about it would force me to think about it, and she knew that that wasn't something that I wanted to do.
The rest of that day was wasted away playing video games and sitting in the darkness of my room. Now that I look back on it, I don't even think I left my room to even eat breakfast, let alone dinner. That must have been a clear sign. I was beginning to be afraid that people were growing aware that there was something bothering me.
"You're not okay," my sister would note. "You're thinking about something and it's bothering you. You got skinnier than usual; something is wrong."
I have depression, that's what's wrong. Why do they act like they don't get that? Either that or they simply couldn't care any less. Seems to match my mindset as of late. Like no one truly cares. Yeah, true I have all of my friends and they all help with keeping me distracted and making me smile, but just like I said before, it's only a momentary happiness. Or maybe, I'm still not happy and never was happy and it's just a mask, a dense fog that obscures my true emotions and thoughts, only showing what I'm expected to show to the world. As soon as I return home from being out at school or being with friends, all of that "happiness" is gone and my mind is stuck in this rut, stuck under this clouded and overcast firmament with the nimbostratus heavy with rain, like my spirit, heavy with despair.
Living in such terrible weather, I have, for the time being, grown to live under these cloudy skies and accept the rain that comes from the heavens above. Sometimes, the storm begins to roar abruptly and I'm always caught without an umbrella. Even when it pours down on me, I know that I won't let the patter of droplets drown out the person I am, like voices carried off by the wind. I wait for the day that my family will understand that it is not just something that is "wrong with me". I wait for the day where I can dictate the forecast and not let it tell me how the weather will be for the week. I wait for the day when the fog has lifted and everyone can see me, and when the clouds fade away but I'm still standing. I wait for the day that finally, light will shine through and I will look above and see nothing but clear blue.