itsthegardener-blog

[itsthegardener-blog]

A lonely night.

It always sets in when I’m alone, for being around people always chases it away before it leaks through. It’s like an oil that sticks to my skin and no matter what soap I use, it won’t come off. I could go days with not a hint of the feeling creeping back in to bring my mood down. Though it always creeps back in and makes it difficult to function.

The sun was slowly setting as I drew the blinds of shut with a feeling curling around in my stomach and chest. Soft fur brushed around my ankle causing my attention to shift from the window to look down at my cat. Bob let out a meow as I bent down and scooped him up into my arms. Walking towards the couch I carefully sat down cradling my cat in my arms before I felt my throat start to tighten up with too many emotions to describe. Taking my glasses off and setting them aside I buried my face in Bob’s fur as he let out a confused meow. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as my hands rested on Bob’s chest and felt his soothing purr rumbling loudly. A wretched feeling burrowed itself in my chest but this time there was no one around to help console it. Bringing my face away from Bob’s fur I rubbed my nose miserably and reached for my phone. A last ditch attempt to distract myself from the cold house that surrounds me.

No new message.

Tapping on the group chat I quickly type something stupid and hit send. I don’t like using my phone when I’m in these moods because I feel like I need to confess the very problem that has plagued me since upper elementary. To confess all the bad thoughts I get when it gets really bad, to confess why I don’t like it when people ask about the slight discoloration on my wrist. It often helps to make a quick lie so I don’t have to reveal any of the things I struggle with. Things that my mother doesn’t think I have anymore. A.D.D, anxiety, therapy, and depression. I couldn’t bear to do that to her again. It broke her the first time I admitted I wanted to kill myself and made me feel guilty for being the family screw up.  She went on and on about how she was a failure of a mother and why did I feel this way. I’d never admit that my depression started when she started going out every night to waste money at casinos. I’d never admit that sometimes she just makes me feel like absolute trash because I can’t pay attention in class due to the fact that I’m supposedly cured of my A.D.D.  I won’t ever admit that I’m scared to go home sometimes because I can’t take the constant lectures about why I’m getting a C in a class.

My phone pinged causing me to snap out of my thoughts and I eagerly unlocked it only to see it was notification from a game. A sigh escaped as I lock the phone and push Bob off of my lap. Bob let out an agitated meow as he jumped onto the coffee table turning to look at me. Pushing off from the couch I stood up with colorful dots dancing in my vision before it went black for a couple of seconds as I stumbled forward. My knees hit the coffee table before my vision came back and I blinked to fight off the dizziness. My feet moved away from the table and down the hall into the bathroom. Shutting the door I let out a sigh hearing Bob starting up with his evening of meowing. A calm practice I had before it became a routine for when the worst of my evening depression hit. Fill the tub with warm water and just sit. When it gets cold, turn the heater on.

Twisting the drain of the tub shut I turned on the faucet on to the second warmest setting before moving to undress. I kept my eyes away from the mirror with mother’s words echoing in my head,“You need to lose some weight, that’s why you’re so unhappy.”  I stepped into the hot water. The water caused my feet and shins began to itchy in the hot water. Slowly I lowered the rest of my body into the water causing a hiss to escape my lips when pale skin turned red. Pulling my knees to my chest I rested my forehead on them with a tight throat. The ugly feeling in my chest grew and grew.

“Do you want to be stupid the rest of your life?”  

“You’d never make it on your own.”

“I’m going out, don’t do anything stupid.”

“You aren’t depressed, you just need to lose some weight.”

A hideous sob broke through as my thoughts dominated the careful barrier I had crafted to protect my kind heart. My own thoughts were the very weapons that always hurt me the most and always destroy everything I had build. My chest heaved with each broken breath as tears cascaded down my cheeks that burned so hot from the blood filling in them. It formed an ugly blush on a face with furrowed brows above squinted eyes and a runny nose.

My throat felt like someone was squeezing it slowly as my shoulders racked with stuttering gasps for air. Hot tears mixed with cooling water  as my teeth found a perch biting into my bottom lip. My fingers curled into my thighs I could feel the tiny crescents moons being made on my pale flesh. The cold feeling returned to my stomach as a new assault of attacking myself returned with vigor. A metallic taste of iron filled my mouth causing me to release my teeth’s grip on my bottom lip. Picking my head up from my knees I brought a hand up to my mouth and rubbed my fingertips over my wet chapped lips. Bringing them back into my line of vision I stared at the bright red coating my fingers. It reminded me the color of cherries or strawberries.  A morbid memory crossed my mind as it reminded me of the scars that use to live on my wrist and how they bled the same color.