the big sad life

day one

Crushing emotion. That's the only way to describe it. Because if I say sad, or lonely, it seems too plain, too shallow. But crushing. That is when you realise just how strong the feeling is. It's so strong that I feel physical pain as it smashes me to bits. This type of feeling is hard to control, too. It comes and goes at it pleases, showing up at the randomest of times and leaving only when it wants to. That's why that morning when I woke up from my shallow sleep, I decided that, well, I was over this shit.

I got up and immediately smacked my head against the ceiling. I had a stupid bunk bed. I used to want it real bad until I got it and realised how fucking annoying it is to have to crawl up to my bed when I already am so tired. But anyways, that's really not the point of this story. So I got up and slid to the end of my mattress. My feet prodded loudly down the steps and I jumped onto my carpeted floor. Fuck. My heart was already throbbing in my chest. I sat down at the chair at my desk and unplugged my phone from the charger. Seventeen notifications. No doubt most of them were Snapchat streaks and maybe one or two messages from Addie or Irina. Eh. My finger hovered over the little badge. I wanted to reply so badly. But I couldn't. The effort, the energy. It was too much for 12pm on a Saturday. I turned off my phone and put the Do Not Disturb back on. I didn't have anyone important on there anyways.

I cracked open my door, peeking out a little. My head was painfully beating to the pace of my heart and that only increased when the blinding light from the window of my parents' room shone onto my face. The door to the room was open and I could make out my mum's silhouette sitting in the armchair. I smiled awkwardly and headed downstairs. The stairs didn't creak like they do in the movies but they made a hollowed out sound as I stepped on them. They were also carpeted.

As I entered the kitchen, the smell of fresh laundry wafted from the back. It smelled nice. I opened the fridge and looked at my options. I mean nothing really looked that tasty. I closed the fridge slowly. I saw the light turn off. A little smile crept onto my face. I sauntered over to the counter and picked up a random cereal box. It was Weetabix Minis. I poured in ten of them. My body automatically turned to go to the fridge and grab some milk. Almond Unsweetened by Alpro. Good enough. I got the half-cup measurer from the cabinet and poured it to the line.

Sitting down at the kitchen table, I picked up the jar of vitamins that was lying in the centre. I read the label over and over as I quickly finished my breakfast. I was definitely so full. Anyways. Swallowed my pill. Chewed my gummy vitamins. They tasted nice.

Then I went back upstairs. I opened up my computer and searched up New Girl on Netflix. It was my fourth time rewatching it but I clicked on it anyways. I just couldn't really be bothered to find a new show to binge. Plus, I knew that I would definitely like it. My sister once told me that rewatching shows over and over and over was a symptom of anxiety because you already new what was going to happen so you didn't have to worry about it. Eh.

A half hour later and I pick up my phone. I open my Workout app and click on a workout. Its five minutes so I redo it twelve times. An hour of good exercise. I'm a bit sweaty. I should shower. Or maybe brush my teeth. But I can't really be bothered. Its now almost 1 pm. I press play on New Girl again.

Its half past five. I should go and help mum with dinner. I walk out of my room and go downstairs. She's already cooking. Her music is loud. I can't really be bothered. I snake back a little in hopes she didn't notice me. She didn't. I go back upstairs. Press play. Open the Workout app.

"Dinner's ready!" The sound of my mum's voice drift up to my room. I call back that I'll be there in a second. I slam my computer screen down and close the app, plugging my phone back into the charger. I turn off the lights and run downstairs.

The kitchen smells good. Really good. Fish and chips. I walk up to mum and take a plate from her hands.

"Who's this for?" I ask. She vaguely gestures to the table.

"You or your sister, doesn't matter." I put it down on my place. I take another plate from mum. It has a little less chips on it. I switch that for my plate and put my previous one in my sisters place. I take out the ketchup and light mayonnaise from the fridge and put them in the middle of the table.

"Dad! You want tabasco?" I call randomly, not knowing where he is.

"Yes, please!" He shouts from the bathroom. I take out the tabasco garlic sauce. Put it on the table. Knock on my sister's door. Tell her dinner's ready.

Now we're all sitting at the table, eating. It's awkward but at least no ones fighting. I say something about the food being really tasty. My mum smiles. Dad says something about politics. He gets in a debate with my sister. I say thank you for the meal and leave the table, grabbing a bowl of grapes on my way up. Now, where was I?

I press play on New Girl and munch on my grapes. This is just as tasty as ice cream, I tell myself. And it kind of is. Or maybe it isn't. I don't know. I've told myself so many lies already I'm starting to believe some of them. When I finish the grapes, I open up my Workout app. I click on the hour-long walking workout and start, popping a few chewing gums into my mouth. Time passes, I get sweaty. I still haven't showered.

I workout until nine. I get tired. I go on my phone. I go to bed.