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Hope.

Lying awake in the dark, the feelings that haunt me in the daytime have free reign. The utter silence of darkness gives them the signal they have been waiting for. They slither from under the bed, crawl out from the closet, and slip past the crack in the door. They approach me from all directions and I have nothing to stop what comes next. Huddled in the corner of my bed I feel the caress of a solid finger cold enough to freeze Hell over a thousand times. He whispers in my ear. His breath reeks of suffering and the sound the emits from this desolate body is like screeching, rusty brakes. Beginning to cry he whispers again and this time I hear what it is he has to say. “The pain can go away” and He slips His frozen hand onto mine and places a single cold piece of metal into the palm of my hand.He melts into the night along with His companions and I am left alone with nothing more than His thought and this piece of metal. The thought of His idea swells in my brain and completely takes over. Tears turn from drops to waterfalls. And for a moment I consider His idea. The thought of replacing the pain with bliss. The sadness with peace. The frustration with quiet. And for that moment I think I can actually do it. One step at a time. Slicing the vessel that I was given to take care of I close my eyes and a thought flashes into my head. A single word. Hope. Ignoring this flash, thinking of it as nothing more than a last resort effort of survival, I continue to tear away at flesh. I open my eyes and at the end of my room I see a gigantic grin of yellow, monster teeth. Without light I can still see Him egging me on. Begging me to continue but behind him is that word again. Hope. At this I know what it is I have to do. Pulling the metallic object out of my skin I turn it towards this evil thing on the other side of my room and with the force of a thousand men I thrust it deep into his throat. Screaming in agony he falls to the floor and bleeds a bright light out onto the floor. This bright light is composed of what Hope looks like. Feels like. Its afternoon lunches with Mom. Its the salty smell of a walk along the beach with a friend. Its late night talks with someone you never knew would mean so much you. Hope is powerful. It creates a separate reality unknown to those stuck in a world haunted by dark creatures. But once they find their source of Hope everything becomes easy. I promise life always has Hope. Even if it is a glimpse. It is there. Keep searching and please keep fighting.

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Fake.

At the end of each day I find myself picking up remnants of yesterday. The broken pieces of myself lay spread out across the room. These pieces are sharp and they cut my fingers. The cuts secrete drops of blood. These drops are filled with pain, sadness, anger, and frustration and they fall to the floor and the splash of each drop is deafening. A pool eventually forms and I see that I am standing in a puddle of my own sorrow. Bending down to pick up more pieces of my broken self I feel a surge of tears attack my eyes and they break free from their prison. The tears crawl slowly down my face making my cheeks tickle and for a moment I feel a glimpse of relief. But just like the blood, these tears aren’t meant for happiness. Realizing this, pain surges back to the front of my brain and I collapse onto the floor. The sadness weighs down on my body and I feel a million times heavier. This pain is unbearable and I wish I could disappear from this Earth without a trace. 

Between cleaning up this broken soul and crying in a pool of my own sadness I find time to close my heavy eyes and sleep. I take the pieces I’ve retrieved and place them in a box and place it beneath my pillow for safe keep. With a sliver of hope for a better day I drift off to sleep.

In the night a monster known by many as Depression takes this neat box and begins to spread my shattered soul back across my room. He lets me know he was here by leaving me little reminders. These reminders are memories buried way beneath the surface and they are once again brought up and when I wake up the next day find these reminders everything falls apart. Realizing what this nasty creature has done I am unsure what to react to first. Do I shield my eyes and cover my ears to protect my heart and brain from the memories that are too painful to live through again or do I make a dash for the shattered soul? In my fit of confusion I collapse onto the floor and crawl into a heavy ball. My fit becomes uncontrollable and the prison gates are unleashed and my soft cry becomes a heavy bawl. My body starts to shake and my head throbs as each sob is thrust from my body. Through my episode I hear a dark cynical laughter come from the corner of my mind too dark to be redeemed. Closing my eyes I see His dark red eyes penetrate what is left of my soul. My wish of disappearing is too overwhelming. 

I can hear banging on the door. Demands to be let in. “Is everything okay?” No is what I want to tell the stranger at the door. But I am Fake. I manage to clear my throat enough to ask for one minute while I tidy up. I brush the sharp pieces of my tattered soul under my bed and walk to my dresser. In the top drawer on the left sides sits a mask. This mask has facial features that match me almost exactly. One little thing is changed. This mask is smiling. 

I wear this mask everywhere. School. Work. Downstairs. If I am out, this mask is on. I am not strong enough to properly hide the pain and sorrow that embeds itself in my heart. I am Fake. 

There are two sides to me. The real side wallows in sadness and is too unhappy to be truly seen by the real world. This side is haunted by this evil thing and cries to sleep. In order to protect this side it wears a mask portraying a smile for the world. With this mask, this other side, I can venture out into the world and be friendly and “happy”. But when that door closes and the mask comes off, He is waiting for me. A special spot is cleared and I feel myself start to be chipped away at and my soul deteriorates for another night of fighting.

*Song Recommendation: Into The Ocean by Blue October*

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Coaster.

If you had found me last week you would have witnessed me atop of the highest coaster of my life. A smile lay across my face and happiness runs across my face, heart, and brain. There was nothing that could stop me and I was the ruler of everything. Friends and Family surrounding my heart, love was everywhere. The sight from up there was breathtaking and nothing on this green and blue Earth could ever replicate such a feeling. 

Newton’s third law of motion states “What goes up must come down” Must come down. The descent to the bottom of this wonderful ride was nothing exhilarating. Winds of sadness removed His glove and slapped a cold hand of change to my face and wiped the smile clear off. I turned around to find my coaster mates. Instead of finding them behind me in the carts near, I hear distant screams begging me to come back but I am stuck. Forced to endure what comes next. Here I was, riding this terrifying drop by myself. And whatever was waiting for me at the bottom horrified me more than any monster that could ever be created by the greatest minds on Earth. 

I honestly don’t know what’s scarier. Descending quickly to the bottom, alone, and sad. Or facing whatever is down there alone and sad. I know I haven’t reached it though because I can still feel a hint of Happiness. This scrap of Happiness is huddled in the corner cowering in fear from the noises coming from the bottom. I’ve reached a point in this coaster where the light has begun to dissipate and I can no longer comfort the sliver of Happiness hiding in my heart. The truth is, I feel just as afraid as She does. 

The Feelings creeping around in the shadows are terrorizing me and my tiny companion. These Feelings are nothing like Happiness. They form off of Anger and Sadness. Evolving as each horrible new act is laid upon my life. They are scratching around on the floorboards. Slithering around on the ceiling hissing if She or I comes near. And as it gets darker I can hear more scratching, i can feel Them. They know how vulnerable I am becoming without all who kept me safe and I can tell They plan to feed. In this darkness I am left without a wall to protect me and They know it.

This coaster sends me through a whirl of emotions. Each time I rest on one end of the spectrum my Heart and Brain tends to forget the other side waiting for me to arrive. I feel like there is no way to prepare for either. Each bump is just as, if not more exciting than the previous. And each drop is far more terrifying than the last. Each time I head towards the bottom I feel like whatever creatures reside in the darkness become stronger. 

All of us ride this Coaster of life. Take the times at the top to build. Construct an army and be ready because eventually you will have a drop. It will come fast. It will come unexpectedly. But I promise you, with this Army you will be able to beat this multi-headed, snarling, hairy monster and everyone will be waiting at the top to greet you once again. 

*Song Recommendation: Coaster by Khalid*

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Swim.

A valuable lesson I have learned in this difficult journey is that no matter how hard things get you have to keep moving. This life may seem small and unimportant to you at times but there is always someone waiting for you the next day. Each day that one person jerks their head at the sound of your voice or the jingle of your keys or the step of your shoe and a small fairy in the back of their mind flutters around their brain and down to their heart and settles down with a long sigh of peace knowing that you are safe. It is hard to remind yourself that there is more than just yourself and the small room you’ve locked yourself in but I promise someone is always there. Always.

Trying to find the motivation to make it another night is much like being lost in the ocean with weights on your ankles. The weights get heavier with each stroke of your arms and the saltwater begins to burn your throat as you inhale more and more with each step in this journey. Screaming for help just feels like a waste of energy you so desperately need to keep moving but it is all that can be done because the thoughts of giving up are becoming stronger. What once started as a whisper in your ear has turned into a bellow and is resonating throughout your beautiful mind. Memories of happiness are harder to find and the more you search it seems like the memories you find just happen to be the ones that add to the weights on your ankles. Sinking below the surface is all you can think of. No more pain. No more suffering. No more weight. Going below the surface brings a bliss to the mind and heart. The sound of the waves of life are no more and all that can be heard is the sound of your heart beating slowly in your chest. Always. 

Floating inside of the nothing that soon will forever be your tomb, a hand grasps tightly onto your shirt collar. The shirt Mom got for you on your 18th birthday. She thought it was lame but what she doesn’t know is it grew a flower in your heart and that little flower has given you hope. As the thought of her rushes through your head another hand submerges itself deep into the water past your head and reaches for the waist of your dad’s jeans. Too small for him but fit you perfectly and he was excited to see them fit because to him it means his boy is growing older and he won’t ever show you but that brings a tear to his eye behind closed doors. To them, these little things tell you that their love for you is infinite and you should never worry or second guess their love. 

In my opinion the hands that have grabbed a-hold of the shirt collar from Mom and jeans from Dad vary from person to person. They might change depending upon the current situation you find yourself in. This time the hands belong to my brother. A sarcastic, loud, lovable ball of fun who gets on the nerves of everyone around him . But that’s him and I know I don’t show it enough but I love you. Always.

*Song Recommendation - Swim by Jack’s Mannequin* 

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The Start of Something

As far back as I can remember, I have had some sort of journal. I want to say it all began with my parent’s divorce. They had divorced in 2002 and I was barely three years old. I first remembered the first few pages of my life being short and uninspiring blurbs of nonsense about my day. 

With the divorce came a sinking feeling of loneliness. I felt like the world was against me. I closed myself in a tiny room and made sure no one had access to my heart and my mind. I felt that no one would want to have any part with something so broken. I say “something” on purpose. I wasn’t a person when I looked at myself. I was a thing filled with confusion, anger, frustration, sadness and these feelings swirled through my brain and around my heart nipping at each with such bitterness I felt it unnecessary to share ‘Me’ with anyone. Feeling those monsters crawl inside of you at such a young age has such an incredible impact on a person and I will never forget what that felt like.

With this loneliness I acquired a love for reading. I had read stories from Edgar Allen Poe and Stephen King. They had and still continue to hold a tight place in my heart. Right now, I am reading The Stand by King and I am thoroughly enjoying the story (I’m about 650 pages in). This incredible skill introduced me to a world of language. With each book I gained new vocabulary and eventually I fell in love with the idea of creatively writing my feelings. Not yet, but someday soon you’ll see what I am talking about.

I got this idea from a friend of mine who’s dad is battling cancer. I clung to the idea of spreading my thoughts to those around me and thought I’d start here. The way I look at it, even if nobody ends up reading what I post this list of thoughts will act as a time capsule for me and maybe even my children in the future.

I’m not really sure what I want this to be to be honest. I think, (hope) it will evolve and become what it is meant to be with time. With patience. And with lots of perseverance. Maybe I’ll ask myself questions and just blah blah blah my answer on here and hopefully I’ll get an answer from someone. If not, then it will just be one crazy person talking to another about their view on life’s craziest corners. 

This is the first continuation of my life digitally. I hope, whoever you are, you enjoy reading what I have to say as much as I am going to enjoy sharing it with you.