Falling Colors

Chapter Twelve: What Depression Feels Like

Shaking my head slowly, I denied her offer to talk.  She knew I didn’t speak, did she think I was suddenly going to speak now.  She was sadly mistaken.

     “Okay then…” Cleo looked around the group and her eyes landed on Mason.  “Mason, want to share with us how you’re feeling right now?”

      Mason shifted in his chair and cleared his throat.  “I’m feeling alright, I guess.  It’s still hard seeing all my friends away at college and some of them playing on football.  It’s hard knowing that I won’t ever play football again.  It was my life you know?  It makes me really depressed.”

       Cleo nodded her head in understanding.  Felix and Bria gave him a sympathetic smile; Avery rolled her eyes and let out a loud sigh.  Wiley and I looked away not knowing what to do.

      “Do you have good days, though?” Felix asked, kindly.  “Because sometimes I do.  They aren’t great, but they’re better than most days.  Then I have some really bad days where I can’t even get out of bed.”

      “I guess I have good days,” Mason said, unsure.  “Today feels like an okay day.  You know, I’m here and people are here to support me, and that’s all I need.” 

     “What does this depressed feeling feel like?  How does it occur?” Cleo asked, cocking her head to the side curiously.  She was acting like she was asking about the weather or how to play a game.

      He stared ahead, his vision unfocused.  I thought maybe he wouldn’t answer Cleo, but I was wrong.  His voice was shaky but he began speaking.  “You have all this anger and self-pity building up inside you, you know?  Some people are really good at hiding it or ignoring it and you think you’re one of those people – I thought I was.  Then suddenly this idea crosses your mind.  You think ‘This is it.  This is what is going to make me feel exactly what I want; nothing.’ So the sudden stillness comes over you and you feel like everything is right in the world after everything feeling wrong for so long. 

     “And right when you are about to do it, your life doesn’t dramatically flash before your eyes.  The wherever-you-will-be-going-to-next does; or your own vision of it.  And the only thing you’re thinking about is the feeling of content and happiness that you’ve wanted so desperately for such a long time.”  He paused and looked at us all.  “Being depressed doesn’t send you over the edge; it’s admitting that you are to yourself that sends you over the edge.  Because then you feel like all hope is lost and you’ll never be happy again.”

     I rapped my arms around myself as discreetly as I could.  What he just said rang true to my heart.  That’s how I felt.  I felt it months ago and I still felt now.  Except now there was no way to get out of it.  No hope left of getting out of.

      “Do you believe you’ll ever be happy again?” Cleo asked.

      “What’s there to be happy about?” Mason shrugged.  “My life is over.”

      “Bullshit,” Avery grumbled.  “You have more left to life than football.  You can still go to college, you can still live life.”

      “Football was my life!” he rasped back at her.  He threw his head down into his hands and pulled at his hair. 

      “Let’s change the subject.  Maybe we should do some partner work? How does that sound to everyone?” Cleo asked, looking around.

     No one said anything so Cleo took this as a silent agreement.  “Okay so go off with your partner and just talk.  Talk about your days, whatever you want.  Nothing deep or upsetting.  Just regular conversation.”

     Everyone stood up from their seats, and slowly I did too.  Felix walked over to me and held out his hand. 

     “I’m Felix,” he said with a friendly but timid smile.  “You’re Odette, right?”

      Nodding my head, I didn’t take his hand.  Instead I sat back down in my seat, and Felix looked around awkwardly before going back to his seat and dragging it over next to mine.

      “So since you’re new, is there anything you want to know about the group here?” he asked, twisting the watch around his wrist nervously.

       I looked down at my cuticles that were now hang nails and began to rip them off.  Felix watched this motion and winced.  He stirred uncomfortable in his chair and looked around trying to fill in the gap.

       “Cleo mentioned that you don’t talk,” he said gently.  “Were you born that way?”

       Looking up from my hands and looking over his shoulder, not making eye contact, I shrugged. 

      “Do you mind if I talk?” he asked, not knowing what else to say.

      Shrugging again I went back to picking at my fast dissipating cuticles. The skin around my fingers was turning red and bloody.  The nails I once used to take care of were now looking like they had been dipped into acid or something of the sorts.

     “I’m forty-five years old,” he began.  “I don’t know if you really wanted to know that.  I’m assuming you’re eighteen?  Nineteen?”  He looked at me desperately at me for some type of response.

      Feeling almost bad for him I was tempted to nod my head that he was right with the first guess. I didn’t though, I kept picking at my fingers.

     “I’m from New York,” he continued awkwardly.  “Used to be a big time cop down there.” He gave a nervous chuckle.  “Saw lots of different things.  This small town is a lot different than big city New York.  Have you lived here long?”

       I ignored him again.  He sighed and looked over at Cleo who was playing cats-in-the-cradle with a string that had been around her neck looking like a necklace.  He probably wanted to ask her if he could switch partners. 

     For the rest of the time there, Felix made small talk and I ignored him.  It wasn’t that I had anything against, Felix; I just wasn’t going to act differently around him.