When I was 14 my relationship with my mom went into a disastrous spiral. I moved in with my dads then empty home, which is how my mom left it. We didn’t have a fridge. I didn’t have a bed the first couple of nights I was there. We didn’t have running water for several periods at a time. I would get home from school and lay down in my sisters old bedroom on a red, hard sofa bed and stare at the wall. I went days without eating. I went days without feeling hunger. Some days I’d walk into my sisters room and say her name. My favorite days were when my brother would come over and leave his toys on the floor because it brought life into the house. My best friend would come over, knock on the door and window too, but I would ignore it. I just looked at the ceiling or at the wall. I wouldn’t even look at the wall and observe it, I just stared at it without meaning. I was alone most of the time. I painted my room all sorts of colors to make me feel better and make it seem like I was okay. I don’t remember the day I woke up and didn’t feel despair.
When I was 17 I spent every holiday with my ex boyfriend that I loved immensely. My first love, my first everything. We grew up together and he could make me smile like no one else. And in February after the holidays, he left me for another girl. The girl I’d warned him about, the girl he told me was just his friend. I was so incredibly broken. It was the emptiest I’d ever felt in my life. An emptiness I wouldn’t wish on anyone, not even her. I cried every night. It was so bad I went to my mom, the person I’ve never trusted for help. I cut my arm till I saw blood dripping all over. I didn’t know how to fix my broken heart. I don’t remember the day I woke up and didn’t feel broken or hollow.
When I was 19, I got kicked out of the university I attended for having low grades. I didn’t have a stable job and I kept getting fired or simply just stopped showing up to work. At one point, I was making 300 a week which is nothing because I had to pay for school since I lost my financial aid. I was back at a community college and I felt like a complete and utter failure. I was most disappointed in myself for disappointing my father. These days I didn’t eat. I lost a lot of weight on my already thin frame. I was weighing in at 80-83 lbs. My relationship with my best friend cascaded. Again, I’d lay in bed all day, but this time I replayed my failures over and over again in my head. I wouldn’t cut myself anymore (not that I didn’t want to or felt the urge to). Instead, I’d just cry quietly. Sometimes tears wouldn’t even come out, it just be gasping for air. The guy in my life at the time, treated me like crap and made me feel worse about my situation rather than help. I don’t remember the day I woke up and stopped feeling sorry for myself.
I started setting goals for myself, like “tomorrow I’ll shower”. Because when you’re depressed even showering is a good goal to have. I got tired of laying in bed and just seeing myself succumb to my sadness like many times before. One of my major goals was to get my GPA high enough to get back into the Uni I was in. After a good while of trying to push myself up, I finally got back into the Uni, I got a stable job, I got a new car and I dropped the guy that treated me like crap! This all happened within about two years. It took a good while, but it felt worth it.
This past week, I turned 21. I’m scared of aging. I’m even more terrified of aging now that I reached the age I should’ve graduated with my Bachelors in Psychology. The age I should’ve traveled two different countries. The age where I should be able to help out my dad, not bring him burdens or stress. I shouldn’t be in debt. I shouldn’t be struggling with money with the full time job that I have and the little bills I have to pay. Now I feel a sadness I’ve never felt before and I just wonder… is it always going to be like this? Am I always going to fuck things up? I no longer see a future and I no longer see my goals being accomplished or even the making of new ones. I’m so terrified because if I had goals before that I could barely achieve, what happens when I don’t have any goals? What will become of me? The thing is… I’m sad again and I feel like I can’t breathe. I keep trying to keep going, but it’s just hard. I know people have it worse, but this is my life right now. I’m empty. I’m hollow. I’m sad again. I mean that so, so much and it upsets me because I don’t want to be sad anymore. I don’t want to cry myself to sleep every night again. This time, I don’t have a goal to help me keep going. I feel like I’m going deeper and deeper under water. I feel my hot tears roll down my face. I feel my throat burn from a sick, emotional scream wanting to escape. I feel my hands shake with anger because I don’t know what to do anymore. I can feel the hole in my chest and this time I don’t know what to do. This time I’m scared because I don’t know how to cope. I don’t know if I can.