She sits by herself. Darkness engulfs her from all sides. The one and only source of light shines brightly from the corner. The light shines blue. She stares down at her hands. She is trying her best to hold it together. She is trying not to tremble. She is trying her best.
But she can’t imagine that her best is enough. She is struggling in her classes now. She is struggling to keep her friendships alive after all this time. She is struggling to keep her close friends…close. She is struggling to stop her mind from slipping down the darker path that she knows all too well. She is trying. She is doing her best to remember to breathe even when air seems to be a little out of reach. She is trying to eat at least one meal a day but, sometimes, even that is hard. She is trying to remember to drink water but that was never a habit she possessed. She is trying to write her feelings down and get it all out, but it feels like she’s cupping water from an endless pit of despair with her own two bare hands. She is trying to not push people away, but she also can’t make them stay. She is trying.
But there are nights, or even simply moments, where she is left alone with her thoughts and…it gets to her. She remembers the words of hatred that was sent her way. She remembers the cold shoulder she received from almost everyone she thought would always have her back. She remembers hours of her parents yelling at her for her mistakes. She remembers feeling neglected and emotionally abused. She remembers the rush of adrenaline she got thoughts of walking into a busy street. She remembers what the razor felt against her skin. She remembers the pit in her stomach whenever she thought of ramming her car into the wall while she was driving on the freeway, going 80 miles per hour.
She remembers feeling like she’s not good enough. She remembers feeling unwanted. She remembers feeling unlovable. She remembers feeling unforgivable. She remembers feeling useless. She remembers feeling helpless. She remembers what it felt like to told she was a waste of space.
But she’s still trying. She’s trying her best as the old emotions flood through her body, drowning her system. She’s trying to remember that these emotions are not the emotions of today, but the feelings from yesterday. She’s trying to not let them become feelings of today,
But it’s getting harder every day. She remembers the nightmares that left her gasping for air. She remembers imagining what it would feel like standing on a cliff with one big decision, to jump or not to jump. She remembers sitting in the corner of her bedroom, huddled up in a ball, and wanting to cry out her whole heart. She remembers the cold showers that left her physical body as numb as she felt. She remembers wanting so badly to take the car and drive away, escape from everything that doesn’t want her and everything that hurts.
But she didn’t. She stayed. She did her best to hold it together. She did her best to not be dead weight to her family. She did her best to not involve her family or her friends, in attempt to leave their lives unchanged from her pain. She did her best to show the world how strong she can be by shutting everything out.
And now, she’s trying again. The emotions from yesterday are becoming the feelings of today. She is trying her best to keep it together. She is trying her best not to let it show. She is trying her best not to let her demons grow. She is trying.