A Different Depression

Just the Way It Is

  Do you think your life is horrible? Do you cry yourself to sleep at night? Do your arms have non-scarred skin? Does your mom make you see a shrink who makes everything worse? Do your friends call you crazy? And what about that evil ass voice in the back of your head, is it telling you to look search on YouTube how to kill yourself? If you answered no to any of the above, quit your bitching because your fine!
  I understand the other things to make you feel depressed; a bad home life, abusive boyfriend, maybe you've been touched? Personally, I think those are things you can power through like a brave solider unlike my problems. I know I know! I sound like an asshole, right? Yeah, yeah, yeah, get in line!Anyway, back to the star of this stupid story, me!
    I'm Tori and my life is a circle, literally. I get up every Sunday at 7:00 a.m. and go to church until 12:00 p.m. And then I sit in my room and call my "best" friend Vivi-Anne and complain about Jesus and my mom and how Mary couldn't have possibly been a virgin.
    "I mean, she was probably just a prostitute who Joseph was renting to people for a piece of cheese and bottle of milk," I always whine.
    "Yeah, yeah," Vivi says unenthusiastically. "Back to the important issue. Brad asked me to the dance and then Anthony invited me over for Netflix and Chill. I went to both and got some great sex each time, not to mention I gave amazing head! And then I went in the closet with Jackie and we gave pussy to each other for three hours! Hashtag, OMG! I think I'm bisexual or some shit because it was great!"
    (What?! She's not a slut?!What made you think that?! Her boyfriend is Gionni and she's had two abortions, one Kobe's and the others was some hobo living under the bridge. She called it a "charity act.")
     But then Monday-Friday I go to school with my hoodie hood up and my head down, my skinny jeans black and covering my hold bottom half. My hoodie goes down to the middle of my thighs and my hair is never brushed and always bunned up. I wear plain high top Converse and my headphones are always on and blasting Of Mice and Men in my ears.
   I get bullied all the time and I don't remember the last time I smiled. I have to cover my wrists with my hoodie's sleeves and Vivi calls me a psycho like she knows anything! They can all go fuck themselves!
    After another day in hell, I get a conference with Lucifer himself. But, in the mortal world, he goes by Dr. Farline. Actually, I'm on my way to a meeting right now!
    "I still don't understand why I have to see this idiot! He told me that I should buy a pink hoodie! It wasn't even October, or Wednesday for fuck's sake!" I argued to Mom.
   "Because you need to recover," Mom replied, so calm and sweet but yet firm. "I'm no shrink, but I am however a mother, your mother to be exact! What do you think that means?" She said.
   "Congratulations on pushing me out of your vagina fifteen years ago!" I said, sticking my thumbs up in her face and smiling a huge, Buck-toothed smile.
   "Hahaha," Mom glared. "Your sarcastic humor never fails you!" She smiled and pushed her bangs out of her eye, hiding the straggly gray hairs that had snuck into the roots of her hair. "No, babygirl, it means that I have a duty to uphold. That duty, my dear, is the responsibility to support you. Financially and emotionally, which I'm doing." She clicked on the right turn signal and slowed down to make another turn.
   "Yes because you, Mrs. Bailey Jackson, are helping me by taking me to Dr. Fucktard five days a week for three hours and draining $200 a week from you and Dad's pay checks," I said with an attitude.
    "Shut up, you know his name!" Mom sighed. She pulled our tiny Prius into a parking lot.
      I jumped out of the car before it was fully parked and ran into the tiny brick building. I rushed past Jody with a wave and slid into the couch.
      "What's up Doc," I did my best Bugs Bunny impression.
       Dr. Farline looked up and grinned. "Hello, how are you, Victoria?"
       "Nothing really. You know my name is Tori. Not that horrid 'Victoria' bullshit. It's Tori!
     "Eh, whatever," he shrugged. "How are you scars?" He reached for my wrist, which I snatched back from him.
     "Uh, nope!" I laughed. "But I named them! Wanna know their names?" I pulled down my sleeve revealing seven cuts and two burns. "Okay, so, here is Rejection," I pointed to the deepest one, closest to my hand.
     "Why is Rejection so deep?" Dr. Farline leaned over so I could feel his moist, disgusting breath on my wrist.
     "Oh, you know, Mom and Dad aren't too supportive, like Vivi the Walking STD," I got up and walked around the room, snatching up a couple pistachios off his desk. I sat in his chair and spun around until I thought the greasy pizza slice I had eaten in school was trying to leave my stomach.
     And that's pretty much ever visit. I introduced Rejection, Ugliness, Betrayal, Stupidity, Failure, and Injustice. But then I stopped at the one that wasn't even scarred, it was only an hour old, actually, and I didn't do it. I accidentally dropped my it's all fun and games act and I guess a shield fell inside of me. It fell with the glossy memory that escaped my eyes slipped down my cheeks.
      "That looks new," Farline didn't seem to notice as he rubbed some antibiotics on my cut. "What's it called?" He looked up and my tear hit his own eye. "Tori? Tori? Tori? Are you okay?" He took me by the shoulders and put me on the patients' couch and wiped the tears that were now streaming down my cheeks.
    I almost told him about the locker room incident with Sydney and Jessica and that one brunette who I don't even know. Almost! But Mom came in and I was gone.
     When I was home, I grabbed my sister's old curling iron and plugged it in on High. I pressed it to my arm and cried as it burned my skin. I cried more when I realized how much I missed my sister, Charlotte.
      Let me start from the beginning.