My friend Bi

Stress.
A short story....kind of.

"How are you?" she asks. "Fine" is the answer I give and seem to always give no matter the situation.

"How did the semester end? What are your plans for the future? Are you currently seeing someone? How do you manage your time so well? What do you plan on doing over the summer?" The questions seemed to never end and they came all at once. As suddenly as they began, they stopped. Just like that, and then there was silence.

I looked up and simply answered with an "I don't know" as I walked away. As I turned, yelling ensued "Don't turn your back to me! Talk to me. Let's try to figure this out together." then the yelling started to get softer and turned almost into cries, "I'm tired of the silence. Please talk to me about this. I don't want you to fail your classes again. We can figure this out. Just tell me what you want to do." I was holding back tears as I said "just leave me be. I'll figure this out."

Why can't I just say what I'm feeling. How come the words get to my lips and then just stop, as if there was a wall right at the edge. And then the big question came, the one that is still repeating non stop, "Are you depressed? Or maybe stressed?"

I was quick to say no and laugh a little but later on I thought to myself "What if I am?" What really is that, stress and depression. They almost walk hand and hand. They are that annoying couple that you never invite to the party because you know they'll ruin the vibe. One talks to much and the other says those weird jokes and has that terrible laugh that would've ruined the joke even if it was funny.

"Well I can't be depressed or stressed," I thought. I don't even know what those things feel like. I've always worked hard and handled my work well and depression; well that's impossible, I've always been the liveliest of the bunch.

But, then again, there are those voices. Those small little voices that speak to me when no one is around. When I'm alone or at night. Sometimes even when I'm with people. Is that Depression? Is that the shadow that lingers and talks to me? Maybe it's Depression that is keeping those words from coming out because Depression knows I'm scared.

How could I be so silly?! Well of course Depression knows. How could I forget, Depression has known me for so long, as a matter of fact we've been best friends since my childhood. How silly of me, Depression knows all of my secrets. I remember I had nicknamed Depression, Bi because of how sporadic and terribly timed the visits were. It's all coming back to me now.

Whether it be at a party, reunion, date, with friends or family Bi always seemed to know where I was. From feeling joy before Bi's visit, to feeling nothing during and after Bi's visit. In fact, until recently the visits were little to none but for some reason they've become frequent. Possessive at times it makes me feel as if I'm losing control, seeing and hearing things and feeling nothing. Things like that can drive someone crazy.

Not me though. Although Bi is my friend I do not let the thoughts and voices get to me. I turn it into a game, a challenge almost. When Bi whispers to me, I in turn dance or sing or shout. I begin to play because If my heart is loud enough then Bi is no longer heard. The whispers that leak into my brain are drowned out from all the noise my heart makes. From a tragic story there comes the strongest of cries and mine is a battle cry. One that never gives up and will never give in.

Slowly but surely Bi Depression is turning into Bye Depression.





Letter from me.

Depression is a very serious thing. This story is meant to represent someone who deals with anxiety and depression. From hearing questions that make someone nervous or overwhelmed to then becoming anxious and reliving each question and beginning to overthink, which in turn causes depression. For some it's a feeling of overwhelming sadness and for others it's feeling nothing. Both are equally as bad, but at the end of the story you see that there is always hope and always happiness and joy that can come out of the most dreadful of feelings. There's always a way out and it begins with talking about it. Find your outlet.

Thank you.