My excerpt of stories (EN)

the trick of depression

5 years ago, I cut myself for the first time. It was all a story at first, I didn't mean and I didn't think it would got worse. I just did it because I felt the need to, after my heart was broken in a million pieces. It wasn't just for the fashion, it was just a need, I didn't mean to start this. I just did it without even noticing what I was getting myself into.

4 years ago, all of this was in the past. And when I say all of this, I mean the story, the moment where my friends told me to hide my arms and that they wouldn't take me for serious. At this time, it went from story to reality, I harmed myself without caring. I wasn't wearing any sweater at 40 degrees celcius to hide the marks on my arms, and when someone was complaining about them, I said nothing about it. It was just my way to deal with the pain, the real pain, the one that was destroying me from inside. It was a trade with the devil, it was the physical pain against the emotional one and that was an easy choice. People believe that the physical ones are the worst, but those who says that never knew the real pain, the one that no one can see, not even you but tears you apart from the inside, eating everything it can and leaving you with emptiness and a will to die.

3 years ago, it was just emptiness. I just didn't care anymore. I can't even remember if I kept harming myself but I don't think so. It was just... Empty. The world could have disappeared, I wouldn't have care. I just tried everything to forget, forget the pain and the loneliness that comes within. Because people tell me they're loner, that they understand how unsocial I am, but those people never experienced those moments where you're with your closest one, eyes broken and screams inside, trying to speak, to shout to the world that you can't take it anymore and no one listens. They just tell you that it's okay, that it's normal, you're normal and everything will be alright. This is true loneliness. Being solitary means you like being on your own, and unsociable means you can't talk and be with the rest but none of them means loneliness. Loneliness doesn't mean having no one around, it means having people around you but still feeling like you're alone. Still feeling that no one listens and no one can understand. And they'll tell you to explain, and you will try, but how can someone who thinks they know the world can understand the pain of someone who knows pain itself? How can someone who understand the pain that society cause can understand the pain that the mind cause?

2 years ago, I thought life was giving me redemption. I thought it was the time to forget and to shine like I never did. I thought it was over. But oh, darling, it wasn't. It was just the trick that pain do, when it makes you think that it's done just to come back harder. I fell in love, I've experienced so many things, just to understand at the end that pain was just hiding. It was hiding behind a boy who didn't make me happy but who I thought did because my pain would disappear with him. But when I was alone, it would come back so slowly and silently that I wouldn't think it was real so obviously I wasn't worrying. And how dumb was I, on the 1st day of 2017, looking toward the bottom of my building, seeing the road and the park, wishing my body would just fall and everything would be okay, and the day after just forgetting about this and still believing everything was okay. The worst is, my mind was trying to warn me and it did so many times, and I never listened. It was making me write poems in class where I would say I dreamt of dying and I would just not care. It was making me dream of the end multiple times and I was just taking this for dreams, and then it came true. Then I understood everything. I understood the dreams about the end with my then boyfriend weren't just a warning about that, it was a warning about the end of everything. The end of me. I hate to say this, but he was actually holding me together, I was making him into my wall.

1 year ago, I tried to kill myself, first it was a cry for help but the second time wasn't. The second time was a demand for death. And then, it all went well. Everything was okay. I found life, I found love, I found peace. But I can't stop wondering, is that another trick of you, pain? Do you want me to believe, after so many years, that you left me alone just like that?

And exactly a year after, I'm starting to feel the fall a little bit again. I'm starting to feel the want to forget with alcohol and drugs, the worrying part, the careless part. And I'm afraid it was just a trick.