I can point to the very day it happened. The day that changed everything. I guess that's where it all started. You know when people say "Let's start at the beginning." I think that is my beginning. That was when the darkness entered my world, and never quite let go.
15th of September 2004
A date that is hard wired into my brain, and my soul. I remember small ridiculous details about that day. Details that has nothing to do with what actually happened, but still, I remember. I remember waking up in the morning with a headache, contemplating not going to school. Looking back, I am so grateful that I took the bus down any way. And then we had English Lit. We were standing outside the classroom waiting for the teacher. It was only a couple of weeks into the new school year so we were all still fairly excited about the class. We were laughing, talking, playing around, as kids do.
Then someone came. It seems funny now that I have no clue who it was, while the headache in the morning is so clear in my mind, the person who came to get us is not. The initial messenger, maybe that's why I can't remember who it was. Because I don't want to remember who that messenger was. The person who brought the first news of what was to come.
We gathered in the auditorium. And that's when they told us the biggest lie I have ever been told by anyone. Our dear friend, whom we all knew were sick, very sick, was now in the hospital. But while her condition was critical, it was stable. They just wanted to let us know what was going on. Later we found out that while our teachers, our role models, were telling us that she was 'okay', she was in fact taking her last breaths.
We were sitting in another classroom. Having European History. That's when the real news came. And the world caved in. I have never seen a large group of people fall apart so coherently since that day. It was as if someone pressed a light switch, and we all fell apart at once.
Because how do you deal with the death of a classmate when your 17?
The answer to that question is that you don't.
After that day my world became darker than I ever thought possible. I fell, and there was no one there to catch me. And ever since that day, now so many years ago, I've been fighting to stop falling.
Today I can say that most days I don't fall. Most days I manage to stay upright. But just like anyone fighting the evils of the world, I have my up's and down's. And this is where I record them.
People are afraid to talk to depressed people about their depression. They don't want to intrude. Or bring it all up to the surface. They're afraid. They don't know what to say.
The one thing I have always wanted is for someone to talk to me. Not a long conversation about my mental state. But just for one person to openly say: "I know. I see you. I believe you. Lets talk. I'll not only listen, but I'll hear you as well." Because you might think it's difficult to talk to a depressed person about their issues, but it's just as hard for a depressed person to talk about their issues. We don't want to intrude.
This is my way of intruding.
