The Sequence of a Mind

Rated Teen because the inner workings of my mind can be somewhat demented.

            Sometimes, I slip into a mini depression. I’m never sure how long it will last or what causes it. Having my period, just a rough day, or a bad ride on my horse could all be valid factors. But my parents�"or rather my mum�"don’t know how to handle it. I’d prefer to be left alone, but that’s never the case. My mum will often ask me what’s wrong and I don’t know how to say nothing, I’m just in a bad mood without having her pry for more details. When did this start? How? Did someone trigger it?

            I think the truth is…I don’t really like it when people ask me what’s wrong and try to get inside my head. I’ll do anything to figure out what somebody else is thinking but when it comes to my mind…there should a giant tattoo across my forehead that says STAY OUT.

            Most of the time, these mini depressions last through the night, and occasionally branch out into the next day. During those hours, a lot and nothing goes around in my mind. I think about the third group of best friends that I had to abandon with my family’s most recent move. I think about how I don’t think I’ll ever get very close to any boy. I think about how my mum can’t stand to look at me when I don’t tell her everything that goes across my mind. It’s a cycle, really. Sometimes new things are thrown into it. My body, how it’s full around the hips and legs, dainty near my wrists and hands, how alien I feel when I look at myself in my underwear. My dry feet. My puppy. My sister. My lack of a social life that has been with me for almost 4 years. My inability to write with beat, melody, purpose.

            After the cycle is done and my mind goes blank again, I feel like my chest is caving in, my eyes are stinging, my stomach feels bottomless. I want to collapse on the floor, curl into a ball and shut the entire world out. Sometimes, I have little visions of me sleeping in my closet, or in my food pantry. I’ve even considered going for a walk and not stopping until my legs are so automatic, they never bring me back to my home, my mum and sister, my beloved dog and horse.

            Sometimes, I wish I would.

After my mind is blank, I feel very lonely, but I still don’t want to see anybody. My best friends are not thoughts that comfort me, neither is my crush, or my mum. I push all thoughts far away into the darkest corner of my head and let them sit until they stop crying for attention and leave me to do my already automatic activities. Brushing my hair, brushing my teeth, showering, sitting in my room, staring at the ceiling, pretend to be busy and totally connected to my body and mind.

            Sometimes I think I’m crazy. Because I think about running away from my house into traffic. You’re probably thinking, suicidal, not crazy, stupid. But the thing is, I don’t want to die. I want to just curl up into a ball and leave myself, for a minute, an hour, forever. The problem is I can’t and don’t know how. I wish I could black out and wake up in a hospital with an IV attached to my arm and my mum and friends huddle around my bed. But I’m never sure why I wish for such a thing. I’m healthy, I’m not fat, I have good qualities, and habits (except for my mini depressions, obviously). Why do I keep wishing to wake up in a place for sickly people? I like to think because I’m an attention w***e. Or because I’m a self-centered girl. Or because I really do want help or need it. Or because I just want to see what people will think, say, and perceive me as after the dramatic event.  I think it could be a mixture, but I’m unsure what factor is most prominent.

            After my mind resumes and becomes calm rather than blank, the water works start. I actually had to stop for about 2 minutes before the paragraph before this one to hold myself together. The reason I say “hold myself together” and not “Let myself cry” is because I don’t cry. I won’t, I refuse to let more than 4 tears fall. Anymore and I hate myself for the rest of the hour. Sometimes longer. What happens is my mind goes into hyper drive. I think about little things at first. I can easily control my tears then. But then I’ll think about my mum being mad at me because of something I did during my mini depression. My eyes blur and sting and throb. One or two tears fall and my nose starts to run and then I let myself shut down. I stop everything going on in me and just sit and stare, or stand and stare, or I continue walking around my house, letting my mind work just enough so I reach my bed, or my food pantry, so I can curl up or sit and not think.

            This mini depression was one of my worst. Sudden onset, massive feeling of emptiness. They started when I was 10; I’m now 15. Whoever that is reading this is probably calling me something along the lines of “Attention W***e” or possibly “drama queen.” To be honest, I don’t blame you. This whole thing looks, reads, and has all the trademarks of either a cry for help, or a massive Attention W***e slash Drama Queen having a pity party with an all you can eat crazy suicidal chick salad bar. It could be either, I’m not sure at this point because I’m in the second stage of the mini depression: Blank mind.

            The reason that I’m letting myself function enough to write this is because a, I need to get this off my chest (I thought that that would be healthy…plus I haven’t written in like 3 days) and b, I was going to send this to my mom or someone I felt I could talk to.

            The problem with b is that I don’t have anyone to talk to. Well, that just puts a damper on all my plans! It’s not that I don’t have anyone to talk to, I don’t feel like I could talk to them. Nor to I want to (if you can believe that). I’m a private person, I don’t like people in my room, I have a personal space bubble that is always on, and because I’m terrified of judgment.

My fear of being judge is mainly about my writing and what people with say. I’ll write a story, get half way through and then the voices in my head will tell me that it sucks, I’m not good enough. The voices will tell me all these things that I may or may not be. So, I stop the story and leave it to sit.

I want to write action packed, love filled novels where the girl is stubborn and badass and the guy is quiet, romantic, and adventurous. I want the couple to hate each other at first but fall into a dangerous dance with fate being controlled by the devil and every force of evil on the planet. I want the couple to hate each other but start caring after some big, uppity event that normal people might not have the mentality to live through.

      But instead of two people that are just abstract versions of me, thundering through a book, learning about life and how to live while risking their lives to make sure they make it home so they can have a decent happily ever after, I’m stuck, writing about how pitiful I am.

            Back to why I’m here...now, I’m in the final stage of my mini depression; Calm. My mind is normal, I don’t want to curl up into a ball, I don’t want to rot in a corner. I do still want to jump into the street but I always have that thought. Most of the time, it’s me being crazy, which causes me to think I’m crazy. Only within the past year has the thought actually become suicidal. It’s not often though.

            The final stage of this whole ordeal could go two ways. I could fall asleep, wake up tomorrow and possible start all over. Or I could become okay, slightly smiling and laughing at things. Since it’s late, I’m banking on the first one.

            The reason that I wrote this now, and not 5 years ago is because I’m not sure who I am anymore. This was supposed to be an email to my mother, but I’ve let that go. She’s too busy to be concerned with something going on with me that’s probably nothing serious. Plus, the whole judgment thing…yeah, I don’t want to have to deal with the anxiety that will come from her reading this. Plus, there is the fact that I’m not sure what I’m going to do. If I do give into my fantasies and end up getting hurt or dying. At least I’ll know that I tried to tell somebody.

Reviews

[mariah]

this is very interesting, and i dont think you are a drama queen at all. i would like to read some of your writing some time, im sure your not a bad writer :)