Dealing with depression is hard, but what's
harder is the people around you don't notice and play it off as you are lazy.
15 year old, Hazel had been dealing with depression, anxiety, and self-harm. Life had gone downhill ever since her father had...
Love... It can be a lot sometimes. But in the end, love can uplift someone in a dark place. It's not an instant cure, but it's good to be there for someone who's struggling
25. December, Saturday
Penelope and I were sat on the bed in the crisp of the morning. Chatting it Christmas lights around my room, we were wearing matching Christmas outfits
"Penelope isn't your first name?" I asked politely.
"Yeah, Penelope is my middle." She chuckled "It's Aminata, "Aminah" is arabic for trustworthiness or honesty. It fits."
"Aminata Penelope Park?" My mouth hung open with a hint of happiness.
"Yeah, Penelope was my aunts name, before she died, on my dads side."
I cupped her cheek. "It's perfect for you too. When did you learn about this?"
"Yesterday, before we came for the party."
"Well, thats cool, isn't it?" This makes me love her more.
She smiled before straying her eyes to the ground, "Hey Hazel?"
"Yeah?" I said, noticing the tone change.
"I just wanted to know.. How did his death really make you feel?" She took my hand in hers, rubbing her thumb over my knuckles.
"He made me feel... hopeless, like I wasn't allowed to be in my skin... I felt like I needed control over my life." My voice faltered a bit, "And I guess that when I started doing... well... that, It made me feel like I have some kind of way to reassert control, bring my body back."
She gave me a smile, "But you're doing much better now, right?"
"I feel... I feel like I can breathe, if I'm being honest. Because for a long time, I just didn't know how to." I exhaled softly, letting the words settle between us. The weight of them wasn't as heavy as it used to be. But I didn't want to linger in that space for too long. I glanced at her, hoping she'd catch the shift in my tone. "You haven't eaten anything since last night. Are you hungry now?""Well, you barely ate so yeah. Let's grab something before we starve."
We rolled off the bed and stood up, a bit of blurriness came to my eyes as I had stood up to quickly.
Penny and I went over to get some mango salad that was left over. Mom pointed to that pile lof gifts. "Grandma and Grandpa left something for you."
There was pile of gifts under the christmas tree, the auroma smelt like ginger cookies and gingerbread men, I walked over and grabbed one. The paper sounds kept being ripped as I opened it.
Paint. My grandparents got me paint. My favourite.
"You said you wanted to paint your wall. I'm allowing you two but please don't make a mess."
I reassured my mother as Penny and I went upstairs to my room. Penny was always good as Sketching and drawing, so she took out a pencil and started Sketching on my wall, hearts specifically.
When she was done Sketching, we started coloring them in. We painted hearts with orange, then pink, then white. But in the middle, I wrote with a washable Marker 'Will it be ok?', the room seemed darker than it actually was. Was it my imagination? It was my mind tricking me
Penny looked at me, took my hand. "It will be ok Hazel, It always is. It always will be ok."
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She came close to my face, giving me a reassuring kiss before saying "We will be ok.."
