Naomi POV:
I feel my stomach clench as I look at the four of them. We are all sat together at lunch, but of course, I'm slightly farther away from everyone else. The boys are all laughing at something Maya had said, but I'm too far away to actually hear it. I open my mouth to say something, anything to remind them that I still exist, but nothing comes out. So I sit in silence as I watch my best friends and the love of my life slowly forget about me. They don't notice my melancholy state as they continue to laugh and smile, completely oblivious to the fact that I'm almost on the verge of tears. Not wanting them to see me cry, I decide to leave. On my way out, I look back one last time to see if they even notice my absence. They don't.
So, I guess I should start from the beginning, so let's go back all the way. It started about a month or go. To be specific, it was the day I came to the painful realization that I was getting bad again. The day I realized that I had more trouble breathing and got less excited about the things I used to love. The day I realized that, even though I still smiled and laughed, it was usually forced. The day I realized that I had started eating less because I just couldn't find it in me to do so. The day I realized that I had gone back to laying awake at night, thinking about everything that's wrong with me and my life and wishing I was someone else. The day I realized I was growing more distant. The day I realized that everything had started falling apart again.
Of course, realizing isn't actually what caused anything to happen. But it's the only solid moment of change I can think of, because everything else sort of just slowly took shape. And when your life is falling apart and you barely even know what's going on anymore, it's nice to have at least one solid piece of knowledge as to why it became this way.
The boys didn't know that I'd had depression in the past. It was one of the things they hadn't found out about, and I hoped that they never would. The thing about having depression is that it doesn't mean you're always sad. There are still times when you are happy or excited or at least okay. And as long as you have those occasional happy moments, people take it as a sign that you're okay.
Another thing about depression is that it isn't always beautiful. It's not always a heroic battle for your sanity or beautiful girl tearing apart their wrists. My depression was the kind where I went days without even being able to drag myself out of bed. The kind where you lie on the floor, staring at the ceiling for hours, because I can't convince my body that it's capable of moving. The kind where my thoughts take up my mind almost every second of the day, so much that I find myself missing out on my own life. The kind where I can't even will myself to talk to my friends. The kind where I ignore every phone call for a week simply because I can't find the energy to even press the answer button, let alone talk to anyone. And so many people think that's not what depression is, so obviously no one even thought of that as a possibility.
And while I was dealing with my inner turmoil, the boys had recruited a new member to the group - Maya. I had no problem with her at first. She seemed nice enough. She had blonde, wavy hair that went down to just past her shoulders and sparkling blue eyes. She was prettier than me in almost every aspect, and I can't say I didn't feel even a little bit insecure around her. But she was nice and the boys seemed to like her, so I had no problem with her.
At least, not for the first few days. It took me a while to realize that Maya was one of those girls. The girls who so obviously hated you and everything about you, even though they'd never say it to your face. The kinds who find subtle ways to insult anything and everything about you in such a way that only you can tell it was meant to hurt you. And by the time I'd realized it, she was already practically a permanent part of our friend group. So I did what I did with all of my bullies - I ignored it.
