Through the Storm: Epilogue

December 12

Only psychotic people are crazy. Right? A person with a normal life should have nothing to be upset or depressed about. At least that’s what everyone says.

If that’s so true, then why am I so screwed up?

I have a seemingly perfect life by other people’s standards. I’ve always made perfect grades. Never once have I been in trouble. I have a bright future that is going to change peoples’ lives. I have a good, loving family that would do anything for me. If they knew what I was going through right now I’m sure they would do everything they could to help. But that’s the problem.

I can’t tell them what is wrong because I’m the perfect one. Everyone is watching me, betting on what direction I’m going. For them, neither direction even has the possibility of failure. So I feel that if I break down to them, then they’ll never again think of me as a genius who is going to make a difference in the world.

I’ll only be the crazy girl who ruined her chances of success when she went through a rough time.
A ‘rough time’, ha! That’s what my mom calls it. True, once I tried to explain what was happening. Scared, my mom shrugged it off as me having a ‘rough time’.

But to me this ‘rough time’ is more than a period of time. I feel like I’ll never again get up in the morning and smile just because it’s a new day. These unwelcome tears will continue to make their way down my face at the most inconvenient times. I’m afraid that the pain I’m feeling is perpetual. Never again will I have a day without unease over stupid little things like homework and school: things that are a necessity that shouldn’t cause such weakening anxiety, but they do.

When I think about leaving this world, I think of how much it would tear my family apart. My mom would blame my step dad. I wouldn’t want her to, but he is one of the reasons I have so many problems. People tell me to ignore him, but it so hard to do that. I wish things in life would go away if you just ignored them, but the reality of the fact is that it won’t.

I’m scared because they tell you that people that die by choice go to hell. That’s the last place I want to go. I just need a place to be away from all of this. A calm place. If I weren’t so afraid of what people would say, I think I would check myself in. I just need a vacation from life and all its worries. Then, when I come back everything would be perfect, but I know that isn’t going to happen.

I don’t know how, but I have to find a way through this. I just hope the other side of life looks a lot better than this shit hole I’m standing in now.