Isn’t it ironic? A young adult takes his life and his entire community is shocked, startled…sorry. The social media sites will be flooded with posts, somewhere along the lines of “RIP *insert name here* – you were loved and will be missed dearly”. Why does no one bother telling him that before it was too late? Why do people only start to care when the last breath struck his body? Some will answer: because they didn’t know. So what? Does a person need to be openly suicidal, in order to receive some love and affection? When did it become a heroic deed to remind the […]
The music is playing. The feelings sinks in. You lay your head on your pillow, gently. You curl up into that typical fetus position, because for some odd reason, you feel safe that way. Â You close your eyes. You let the music fill up your mind, like a breeze of air that enters a room through a window and forces out all the stuffy, carbon-dioxide contaminated air, you were breathing in and out for the past decade. You think about nothing else. You only hear the harmonic melody of the music: leggero in A-minor with a twenty-four bar long introduction, forceful and yet mystically beautiful. […]
The thoughts are becoming fiercer, more vigorous, more overpowering.
It’s been four months since I started my therapy, yet I feel no change. Each month since I was diagnosed, I told myself that I had finally hit rockbottom. Each month I told myself that now there was no way other than up. Each month. March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November, December.
I was wrong each time. It was never rockbottom. Every time I promised myself to try and get better and to make a true effort, something happened. Whether it was my mom driving me up against the wall with her hand around my […]
I’m still breathing, the blood is still rushing through my veins, my hands are still moving. From the outside, everything seems to be okay. I seem like a normal high school girl, with a bubbly personality, always smiling, always happy. If only they would take the time to look beneath that mask I put on everyday. If only they would go that extra step to notice that the countless scars on my arm are not from my rabbits, but from my Swiss knife. If only they would realize that their words kick me over the edge every time.
I could probably spend ages going through each […]