I wish I were dead .
Have you ever woken up with a constant lump in your stomach that keeps taking up space in your life? I have. It happens every morning.
No, you don't need to sit down for the rest of this story.... Because there's nothing there. Nothing terrible, no trauma, no peculiarities in my daily life. Nothing that would justify being in this state for so little.
And strangely enough, that's the root of the problem...
I've got nothing. Nothing to fall back on, no friends or lovers to change my mind, no passion for anything.
It's quite simple. My life is a concentrate of nothing and the unspoken, of loneliness and the weariness of living like this.
And above all, silence.
Oh yes! Lots and lots of silence. Maybe even too much. Especially on depressive days when I can't even get my feet out of bed. The only thing that comforts me at the moment. Spending hours lying horizontal without deigning to do anything but sleep. Boredom at its most propitious, combined with the laziness to get up and do ..... To do what exactly? I don't really know.
There's nothing to motivate me, despite the growing pile of tasks. Putting off the slightest effort.
My life is nothing, but I never said it wasn't my fault...
Other people do it well, so why can't I?
Depression is one of the blandest things my heart can't shake.
Stupid heart. Stupid tears. Stupid me.
The only thing that stopped me from taking matters into my own hands was the fear of failing.
Wimpy.
That's what I was. Because every time I was close to a possible imminent death, such as stepping on a crosswalk or jumping off a cliff. I think of the possibility of simple injury and I'd be unable to explain to my family why, nor ready to see their judgement.
So, if it doesn't end, I take refuge in my most mundane everyday life.
I feel like I'm stuck. Helpless, in a life I didn't choose to have.
People's gazes frighten me, those of my loved ones, of strangers judging me with their viper's eyes.
I didn't choose to be like this, so lackadaisical, without any joy of life, constantly complaining that things just had to stay this way.
My psychologist talked to me about a state of depression? What a jerk! I hate that kind of man. Staring at the clock on his wall, hoping that time will go by faster when real people are talking to him about their worries.
Isn't that their job? To make their patients feel the moral relief of at least listening to them?
Instead, I stared at him picking his nose, staring at his find, before realizing that I'd stopped talking.
Rolling his eyes at least a dozen times to let me know I was bothering him.
I came out annoyed but above all relieved. Because it would be the last time I'd see him proudly hand me the bill at the end of the session.
It was only that day that I realized that I wouldn't find any answers in the mouths of these idiots. Childhood traumas would have caused me all this mess? Well, let them all go back to their studies! I'm not that bad off. And no amount of therapy or internment will fix me.
Seriously.... even if my father left our house when I was young, like all those fathers who went out to get milk and never came back, well, I'd gotten used to that, to not remembering or even having any recollection of that story. In my mind, he was nothing more than a sperm donor who had knocked up my mother.
The only thing I had left of him was my leather bracelet, which had been strapped to my wrist for years. Mom had hidden it in a small iron box in the attic, along with a bunch of photos, but during a most annoying hide-and-seek I'd got my hands on it and never let it go again.
She had threatened more than once to cut it off when my eyes closed, but she never did.
So that's how my story begins, alone as always, staring motionless at my train stop, attracting a lot of stares.
My eyes were red from crying, my clothes a mess, making me look even more pitiful than usual.
Is it normal to enjoy tears in public? My goal in life was to attract attention. Because far too often, I was alone and avoided by too many people. As if I were nothing, forgettable. That was the case with all my friends, anyway...
Or my father, my best friend, my brother and sister. Basically everyone who knew me avoided me. For the simple reason that I carried on my back the bad luck and clumsiness that had gotten me into trouble since childhood.
I was literally a magnet for trouble. Karma is horrible to me and always will be.
Have you ever missed your last bus, been hit by a bike, had all the files at work corrupted because of your bad vibes while your coworkers work, or even simpler, have you ever had a bird crap in your hair 2 minutes before you arrived at the bar where you had a date?
Well, I have. Worse. All in the same week.
Moreover for the anecdote, even if I had managed to wash a minimum of my hair with a speckle, the date was a disaster, the guy continually making sexual allusion to me until becoming heavy forcing me to come home. Which I refused. I spent the rest of my evening hiding in the metro that was closing. Results 1 hour walk to go home in the rain. The next day I was sick
Damn dating app!
I told you I liked to complain. You were warned.
So ... after several long minutes waiting for the damn train, we could all finally get into it, people avoiding to get too close to me, being uncomfortable with a crying girl.
It was only after 5 minutes of travel that the vehicle stopped, lamenting a tree lying on the rails. Begging us to wait a few minutes. It's not like we really had a choice, not being dumb enough to jump off the train either, but after half an hour of patient, people started getting impatient and a new announcement was made. 1 hour to clear the way. As I felt that it would take much more time, I started to settle, feet on the armchairs in front of me, covering my lower body with my jacket like a low-end blanket.
one hour... then two
A man began to complain, alerting the controllers that he had to go to work but nothing moved things forward faster. I whispered for myself with a sad face " Believe me my old man it might take 10 more hours if I'm on this train."
??: Perfect, will it give us time to get acquainted then?
I startled in my ephemeral installation, turned my gaze towards the voice close to me. A man with such transparent and beautiful eyes smiled at me, happy to have made me react.
I was uncomfortable, not even noticing his presence next door.
Not knowing what to answer to that, I just stared at him amazed that someone so beautiful had noticed me.
Ok ! My luck may have been turned today.
I hope I don't have a piece of salad stuck between my teeth
