It amazes me how no one seems to care these days. If they do care they certainly don't show it. I was a lost case of depression. I was a zombie. I mean that is what depression turns you into. It stalks you into even your rare moments of happiness. Depression lurks in the shadows and just when you think that things are going your way it jumps out at you and screams fuck you. It laughs at you as you try to sleep and when depression is feeling truly monstrous it forces you to sleep and sleep and sleep until oblivion becomes reality. The monster visits you in your dreams and eats away at any sense of self you have. The monster destroys bit by bit. And when does depression truly end for anyone? Usually when your dead. Like a war with depression you either win or die fighting.
I was not dead. Not yet at least. Suicide is considered a sin isn't it? I've always thought that it was because it was the one thing god couldn't control. God could take your life but he couldn't prevent you from taking your own. Is it normal to have a thirst for death though? Perhaps thirst is the wrong word. I don't think I could ever kill myself. I don't think I could ever deal with the pain of knowing that I destroyed my mothers happiness. That I made anyone turn to a blade because they couldn't cope with my sudden absence. I wonder though how people would react. Of course who knows if my ghost self would ever even find out? I don't think it would be expected. Every day I put on the best blithe I can and it seems to fool everyone.
I doubt you know what a blithe is though. If you do I'm sorry. A blithe is when depression is screaming in your ears and yanking you apart, yet your smiling. A blithe is an act of fake happiness one might use to cover up the fact that they would rather be on the edge of a building about to jump. A blithe is something that would leave everyone who ever knew you shocked if you ended your life. I mean because you were always so happy right? Let me tell you this though the one who laughs the loudest cries the hardest and suffers the most silently.
As I was saying before though I don't think I could ever end my pathetic life. I don't think I could condemn myself to hell but I want to make sure we're on the same page here. I wouldn't tie a rope around my neck but if someone put one there and started choking me I wouldn't struggle. I wouldn't chug pills but if I accidentally took to many painkillers I wouldn't go to the hospital or tell anyone. I wouldn't run into a car but if one was coming straight at me I'm not sure I would get out of the way. Some people would call this a death drive. I Just call it part of who I am. My name is Madeline Leavy-Rosen and beware your about to take a trip inside my head.
