greyeyesblackheart-blog

[greyeyesblackheart-blog]

The Monster

     “You only take a shower at night when there’s a problem.”

     I followed up with, “I’m sad. It’s fine” and a sad/happy/sigh/smile emoji.

     At 11:44pm on December 31st, I decided I would spend the last moments of 2016 alone with my heartache in the hot water and steam of the shower. The too-hot water ran over my reddened knee caps and down my legs to the hard acrylic of the bathtub where my back rested. The burning pain in my heart grew as I thought back on the precious 365 days. I was filled with bittersweet memories of a fresh love and relationship that blossomed before the burdens of life and addiction tore it apart. The vice grip around my lungs tightened as images of my post-surgery father flashed; pictures that were as fresh as the day those doctors removed the tumors. What a way to celebrate my mom’s birthday. By this point my skin developed a tolerance to the water. I sat up to increase the temperature once more. With the touch of my fingertips to the stainless steel faucet, I became aware of the tingling in my hands. This familiar feelings turned my thoughts to the hazy July day when I used those same heavy, tingling fingers to compose and deliver a message of disappointment and shame to my family. My breaths grew shorter and more shallow. It was at this moment, with fireworks ringing in the new year, that my 2016 came to the most fitting close of all. My year ended with a panic attack accompanied by the words of “loved ones” sounding in my head.

“You are a psycho.” “Stop being such a manipulative, annoying, soul sucking individual and get out” “I assumed you would prefer the manly shirt” “You’re a bad example for my kids to be in a tank top talking about your mission” “Everyone is afraid of you and the next mean thing you’ll throw in their face” “She said I was a good person for being friends with you. Heather is doing it because she’s a better person than me. It’s so difficult” “You’re just not worth it”

       “Everyone hates you”

                                 “She doesn’t love you” 

                                                           “I don’t want to be your friend, Alexa”

     And now, a little over 24 hours later, I lay here with my purple hair brushing my bare shoulders, my face resting on my tattooed arm. All these things reminding mayor the disappointment I am to my parents. 

   All is silent except the rain pattering on the window pane. I’m obsessively refreshing all the apps on my phone with the desperate hopes that any of my outgoing messages will be answered so that I’ll have more than my insomnia to keep me company. In this lonely hour, I’m experiencing a profoundly full void. The gaping hole in my heart is filled with hopelessness, fear, loneliness. It’s filled with the pain of it all and somehow, the pain makes me feel so much yet simultaneously feel nothing. 

     in these moments, when my mind is tormented by all the wrong I’ve done and all the hurtful, hateful things that have been hurled at me... I just want it to quit. All of it. When I’m in the bottom of my pit with only darkness around me -both inside and out- my natural reaction is to think of where I’d like to be outside of the deep hole. My mind starts flipping through options. Scanning for possibilities for relief. 

                                   My infected mind comes up blank.

     The illness that rules my life reaches it’s nasty claws to grab the words and hurt of the past with one hand; with the other it seizes my hopelessness and fears. With brute strength and utter ruthlessness, the monster smashes all these things together to tell me that the best place for me is in the grave. He screams at me, as I’m shaking in panic, that everyone will be happier and better off without me. I fight him with all my power to tell myself that his words are lies.

     I’m scared that one day I won’t be strong enough to fight him away any more. I’m scared that I’ll be too weak to mend the wounds of his wretched grasp.

                     I’m scared that this ugly monster will finally win. 

                                          -Alexa Sturdevant

*Don’t let the monster win. He is a liar. Your depression does not have to rule you. Please. If you or someone you know is dealing with suicidal thoughts, please seek help. The monster can be defeated with help.*             NATIONAL SUICIDE PROVENTION HOTLINE:                                        1-800-273-8255