(No title just yet)

A short glance at something I am working on

I was in a depression for what seemed like months, however, it had been only about 2-3 weeks. My mind was lost in this place that was surrounded by darkness and all I wanted to do was slowly sink and fade into the ground below me. There was no light at the beginning of the day nor at the end. Constantly searching for something that I had no knowledge of. Normally walking outside and breathing in the fresh air allowed any nerves or un-settling thoughts to dissipate. But during this morbid time, nothing, and I mean nothing, could pull me out of this hole. Days seemed to fly by, meaningless and unworthy. My family, my “friends”, seemed to be on the other side of the wall. Voices were a mere distant echo that would only linger for so long. I felt nothing. Thought about nothing other the fact that I was not myself. Who was I before all of this? Who am I now? Perhaps I will never truly know who I am; not know, not ever.

I have always been someone who allowed their thoughts to control their every move. You may ask me why I allow such a negative thing to rule my life… and I will simply say to you that throughout my life, I push things away and sometimes I allow things to enter, cautiously that is. My trust for other people is dim probably thinner than a piece of paper. I blame my dad for that one. Of course there is a story behind that but I don’t feel like digging into it right now. To be honest, I am pretty sure that I am far away from my past. At least farther than I had been a year ago. Everything is process in which we decide and choose what to believe is real and what is not. And I know for sure that someone reading this is saying that if I think this way, than why can I not believe that I am a good person. That I can do whatever I set my mind to. That I have the power to no let my thoughts dominate my daily life. Well, in the end I guess I just don’t care.  

 

My name, you may be wondering, is Liam. It’s a family name that has been passed down from my great grandfather to my father and then to me. I don’t mind it all too much, except I know my mother hates it because it reminds her of my dad. I told her I would be fine if she really wanted to change it, but as time went on, we never did.

I live in a town that is much like any other town, or at least like any other town that I have been to. My mother and I live in a small apartment building on Wedly Street, which happens to be incredibly close to an attorney office that mainly deals with divorces.  On the other side is a dog groomer where I had unwillingly worked for one summer a few years back. It was mainly just to have some pocket money but the overall experience stunk. Literally.

Today was the 7^th day of May and I had skipped going to school since everyone was going on a field trip. They were taking “us” to some local farm to show us how eggs were incubated. To me, it seemed like something we should have done in 4^th grade not in our first year of high school. Then again, I thought most of the things related to the school system was idiotically organized. 

Author's Note

This is a quick glance at something I am currently working on, I would love to hear your thoughts/suggestions/opinion. Just be honest, thank you!