Daisy Chains

invisible

{ A / N - The quote at the end and the paragraph in italics is from the beautiful masterpiece called Every Day by David Levithan. I take no credit for them, but I thought they suited this piece. Vote, comment and enjoy. }

The sunlight spilled into my room through cracks in the blinds; inching through every gap it could locate. The orange-auburn glow of autumn was evident, even in the early hour of the morning. Crisp golden leaves fell from the tree outside my window as their life came to a close, spiralling down until they hit the cold, hard ground and it was all over.

Just like me.

A pounding throb echoed through my head as I pushed the duvet aside. The last thing I wanted to do was get up and face the world. My heart wasn’t in it. None of me was. The numbness succumbed me, crawling through every fragment of my body until it reached my heart. Its cold embrace set an icy seal over the organ. I shuddered under its grasp and forced myself out of bed before I had the chance not to.

I couldn’t do this any longer.

The thought flashed across my mind; its weight bearing a heavy burden I didn’t want to carry. I hated myself for thinking it, but the truth in the words was too real for me to take it back.

The sweet, rich aroma of breakfast wafted upstairs and I inhaled it deeply, but it caused my stomach to churn with a nauseous pang despite the streak of hunger which raced through it. Instead, I channelled my energy into the simple task of showering instead, letting the heat of the water cruise over my pale, slender body and massaging the scented soap into my soft skin. But the normally relaxing effect of the shower had long since washed off on me. There was no reassurance in the water any more.

I brushed my hair and teeth and slipped into yesterday's clothes which had been carelessly dumped on the floor at the foot of my bed. I stared at my plain, unmade reflection in the mirror. The replication in the clear glass showed someone completely different to me. My hair hung around my shoulders in exhaustion and my face was pale and drained. But my eyes…they still sparkled with hope.

I gazed at myself for a few seconds longer. For the last time. But, then again, I said that every day.

I shuffled downstairs with minimal noise and slipped into my worn sneakers. Conversation drifted around the house from my family. I wanted to block it out and to amplify it simultaneously. I was constantly torn between killing myelf and killing everyone around me. My family lived in oblivion to the burden I carried; blind to the demons I festered internally; unaware that carrying myself through the day was not an easy task. Stealing that obscurity from them would be the blade which killed them.

I sneaked out of the house silently. The bitter autumn air stung me spitefully as I wandered down my street. A shiver ran down my spine, but I wasn’t sure whether that was because of the coldness in the air of the coldness inside me. I didn’t know where I was going. But I needed to get out.

People have their reasons. Everyone is different. Parent’s divorced, love one dies, bullying, school, loneliness. My reason was none of these. I guess I didn’t really have a reason. But that didn’t stop it from being so painful.

Depression has been likened to both a black cloud and a black dog. For someone like me, the black cloud was the right metaphor. I was surrounded by it, immersed within it, and there was no obvious way out. What I needed to do is try to contain it, get it into the form of the black dog. It would still follow me around wherever I go; it would always be there. But at least it would be separate, and would follow my lead.

My legs carried me to somewhere I hadn’t been to in years. The cold had pushed the people out; the place was deserted. A ghostly atmosphere gripped it tightly, crouching in every corner and crook of the park. A gentle breeze made the worn, empty swings sway slightly. Dew fogged the metal slope of the slide. The roundabout sat motionless in the centre of the playground.

I unbolted the gate, the metal cold and sharp beneath my bare fingers. Golden leaves littered the ground; they crunched under my feet as I walked. Each step was slow and deliberate. It was like I’d forgotten how to walk.

I made my way to the swings and perched on the jaded rubber seat. The chain creaked as I pushed myself off the ground lightly, so I scuffed my feet on the ground to stop the motion.

My forehead creased in concentration as a deep train of thoughts flowed through my head. I hated thinking about it, but it was increasingly the only thing on my mind. 

It would be too easy to say that I felt invisible. Instead, I felt painfully visible, and entirely ignored.

I was just holding on to the hope that it would pass. But waiting for it to lapse was simple and complicated, like most true things are. Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain.

Except my storm was a violent, devastating torrent which I could not escape.

I found solace in the muted acoustics and mellow lyrics which cradled me, slipping in the warm embrace and solitude music offered me. The only time when I blocked out every thought, every demon and stopped myself from feeling was when my fingers trailed across guitar strings and a peaceful melody rose from the instrument.

But as I gazed out on the shadows which lurked in the corner of the playground, glaring at me mockingly, I did not have the privelledge of my guitar or my headphones. I had only my mind for company - a dark place which held me captive. My mind was an unquiet one; words and thoughts and impulses constantly colliding with each other. 

If you stare at the centre of the universe, there is coldness there. A blankness. Ultimately, the universe doesn't care about us. Time doesn't care about us. That's why we have to care about each other.