3 am (l.h.)

2.7

Audrey

Nothing feels right before the funeral. I have so much pent-up aggression that I could punch out the next ten people to talk to me, but at the same time, I have no energy. I wish I could just go to sleep and wake up when everything's better.

I put on a black dress - the same one I wore to the Mayor's party - and put my hair in a braid. I normally hate how my hair looks pulled back, but it's so greasy that I couldn't possibly wear it down. I could take a shower, but that would require me to have some remaining life source.

It's hard to explain mental illness to someone who hasn't experienced it first hand. It's mainly hard because a) you're always far too tired to think of the words and b) there aren't any words in the English dictionary to explain how completely shit you feel.

There are countless metaphors people have used that can help to explain it. The almost-drowning metaphor, for instance. It's like being completely covered in water except for your nose. You can breathe, and you're alive, but you can't see anything or do anything or say anything. You're constantly on edge, knowing that a big wave could come or a shark could grab you. A large part of you wants to find some way to get to shore, but since you can't see, you don't know where shore is or how to get there. Sometimes, your instinct to survive fades, and you just wish you could get it over with and be pulled under.

Another metaphor, one that not everyone understands, is that mental illness can be like a security blanket. It becomes comfortable, and on days that you might feel happier, you feel strange and you don't know if you like it or not. It becomes your answer to every question. "What's wrong?" I have depression. "Why are you so scared?" I'm anxious all of the time. "High school is where you find who you are." I've found who I am. "And who is that?" I am my disorders. It becomes a way to describe yourself. You go from being Audrey to being Depression, from being Sophia to being Anorexia, from being Laura to being Schizophrenia. And you get so used to being your disorder that, when you get better, you don't know who you are. You feel uncomfortable and like you've lost a friend. Some people say they stop taking their meds because they don't feel like themselves. Maybe that's because they got so used to being their illness that they don't remember what it feels like to be themselves.

When I feel better, I feel like I'm a child whose mother has taken their blankie. When I feel depressed, I feel like I'm drowning.

I try not to think about how Sophia was feeling right before she died. Hopeless. Alone. Broken. Worthless. Numb. Angry.

Sitting in the pews of the church, looking towards her closed casket, and seeing almost 200 people in the room crying for her, I realize they feel the same way she felt. Her parents hunched over with dark circles under their eyes. Her older brother, trying to keep a stoic face, but clearly about to break. The group of four girls that I recognize as her best friends from the picture she brought to the hospital, all of them sobbing hysterically in the second row. These people I've never met who Sophia made a mark on. Some of them - most of them - probably didn't even know about Sophia's illnesses until they got a phone call or read about it on Facebook. These people who just want to believe - or at least pretend - that she was okay. That she was getting better.

That's why, after Sophia's brother gets down from the microphone, wiping tears away, and the preacher asks if anyone else would like to say something, I stand up and walk towards the front. Every instinct tells me to turn back and run away from the church, but I keep my eyes forward as I walk up the stairs to the microphone. My fingers are pressed against my palms and I'm already crying, but I force myself to keep walking.

I finally reach the pedestal with the microphone on it and turn towards the crowd, making quick eye contact with Luke, Laura, her four friends, her parents, and her brother. I take a deep breath.

"I didn't know Sophia long," I admit to the crowd, trying to hide the fact that I'm crying. "But when you spend two weeks as roommates during one of the worst times in your lives, you get to know each other well." Tears keep pouring down my cheeks, and I try to wipe them away. "For those two weeks in a psychiatric hospital, it was me, Soph, and our friend Laura against the world. We fought hard together. We fought our illnesses, Laura's mean roommate, and the unreasonable staff. If it weren't for the setting, we could've convinced people that we were three trouble makers in high school."

I choke on a quiet sob and continue. "We were three teenagers that had been through more than any teenager should have to go through. But somehow, Sophia always kept fighting. Even on the worst days, she would crack jokes and make everyone laugh. She even paid her brother to bring us a cake for Laura's birthday and made everyone in the hospital sing happy birthday as loud as they could." I smile a little through the tears at the memory. "Wherever she went, S brought a smile and a stupid pun with her. She didn't act like her illnesses weighed her down. She made sure that everyone knew she wasn't going to be slowed down by some stupid chemicals in her brain." I wipe my eyes with both hands and laugh a little, remembering how positive she was.

"Though Sophia is gone today, I want to remember the beautiful girl that got me through the hardest point of my life. The girl who wrote me and Laura silly notes, and signed all of our journals when she left like they were yearbooks. The girl who would sing out of key and dance with no music playing. That's the girl that I will never forget. She's the reason we're all here today. To honor this beautiful person with every bit of our hearts." I plaster on a smile that I can't tell is real or fake. "I still and always will love and remember Sophia. She will always be a part of me, no matter what happens."

With that, I walk back down the steps and back to my seat.

____________________

I thought I had the plot for the story all figured out but I'm second-guessing it now

I hope this whole Sophia situation hasn't taken too much of a toll on you lol

Btw I bought a whole bunch of new vinyls and I've been writing a lot while listening to them

OH AND I'm writing a new calum fic that's really cute and much happier than this one and I'm super excited about it so yay!

Oh and chapter is dedicated to decision bc she wrote sent which fucked me up

Luv u

K bye

-Lo