I know how that sounds, pathetic, right? Since when has a day of just cleaning your room and actually getting the strength to do your nails been enough to actually write about?
Since when have those two single tasks, within the length of one very long day, held any importance whatsoever? It’s not an awe-inspiring feat.
But. But it is.
It was opening my eyes, feeling the sheets tighten around my body. More constricting then a boa. More comforting than my lonely boy’s embrace. Kicking off those blankets and stepping through a maze of discarded shirts and toppling towers of trash. God. It was overwhelming.
How difficult it was to not just sit there, to lay on that floor. Have you ever laid your ear to the ground and listened to the slow, rolling, heartbeat of the earth? No matter the layers, the stories, between the center of you and the world, you can catch yourself breathing in rhythm to it. Lay your ear to the floor. You’ll hear it.
And that’s depression. Getting too caught up in your own mind that you’ve lost count of the shadows growing around you. Listening to the heartbeat of earth. Hugging those blankets like they’ll some how hug you back. But the thing is they won’t. And no matter how long you go without washing them, they will never smell like your lonely boy.
Because depression lies to you. It tells you that time is not slipping by and then you look at the calendar and it’s been a year of lying on the ground like a heap sheets.
When was the last time you opened the blinds and felt the sun on your face? Trust me, you are worthy of that simple joy. When did you last leave your bed for something other than work? When was the last time you actually went to work instead of that blank clone that you keep hidden in the closet for the days you’re too tired and too sad to move.
I guess the reason I ask is because it’s ok to be down. I understand. Sometimes you just don’t want to feel anything because the numbness spreading through your lethargic body is too beautiful for your breaking heart to give up. But know this.
The sun rises each morning and the skies grow pink and purple and blue and it’s a beauty that can fade the pain. I say fade, not heal, because they are two different things and one is a battle you must chose to deal with completely on your own.
And if the mornings are too early and you can’t seem to drag yourself out, the sun sets and the moon rises and that is a beauty that unravels the mysteries of your weary heart, with shining stars, deep blues and swathes of satin hanging in the sky.
What I’m saying is, is that it is not hopeless. Even in your worst, most despairing state, you can get better. You can.
Claire is a loud child. She’s not one who is afraid to speak her mind. Though she is only a freshman in high school, she is very mature for her age. She had three passions in life; dancing, family, and friends. She could dance all day long if she had the time. It’s rare to see her upset, as she is always looking for a reason to smile and be happy. Claire spends most of her free time dancing or hanging out with her friends. She cares about her family more than anything. She’s friendly, loud, smart, kind, caring, and one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet.
I guess what I fear most is to be forgotten. To become a folded up letter in a desk, breathing in dust and weathering away, until finally someone remembers me and I crackle and tear in their hands. Until I am just dust.
Michelle logged out of her computer and tucked it away under her pillow of her bed. She glanced over at her sleeping blonde roommate in the bed next to her before sliding off her bed and slipping her feet into a pair of slippers. Since she was only going one room over to see Claire, she didn’t feel the need to change out of her flannel pajama pants and tank top. Who else would see how much of a mess she looked like anyways? She already felt close with Claire, so she was comfortable enough around her to not bother with getting all dressed up. After she pulled her hair into a messy bun, she grabbed her cell phone and key to her room and headed for the door.
She slowly opened the door, not wanting to do it loudly to wake up Charlie. Once she’d poked her head out to make sure the halls were clear, Michelle stepped out and quietly shut her door behind her before walking quickly to room 208. She’d asked Claire to leave the room unlocked, and after she grabbed and turned the knob, she learned that she indeed had. Pushing the door open, she spotted the redhead and smiled brightly at her and waved. She shut the door and then rushed over to her bed, plopping down. “Hi!” she whispered, not wanting to wake Claire’s roommate.
time- hans zimmer river flows in you- yiruma claire de lune- steve anderson moonlight sonata- beethoven canon in D- relaxing piano music consort bella’s lullaby- relaxing piano music consort romeo and juliet theme- nino rota midnight colours- relaxing piano music staralfur- sigur ros hoppipolla- sigur ros once upon a december (from anastasia)- emile pandofi american beauty (theme from american beauty) the well-meaning professor- eluvium an accidental memory in the case of death- eluvium dearest- peter broderick stuff we did- michael giacchino nemo egg (main title)- thomas newman somnus- rhian sheehan quietly returning- rhian sheehan pouter- michael brook prelude for time feelers- eluvium sometimes- goldmund sigur 1 (untitled)- sigur ros