Arrogant boy, love yourself so no one has to
They’re better off without you
(They’re better off without you)
Arrogant boy, cause a scene like you’re supposed to
They’ll fall asleep without you
You’re lucky if your memory remains”
-All Time Low, Therapy
That was the song I listened to on Sunday night after desperately seeking my place of comfort, the familial sense of depression. I had been searching for this state of mind all day, but I had only been able to convince myself to be lethargic. Finally, I was able to once more experience the painful pressure in my chest that
was is a sort of addiction. I was crying excessively and relentlessly-and if felt good.
Through my stream of consciousness, I was able to understand just how much pain one has to be in to kill themselves; even at my worst, I have never come close to this sentiment.
One might think this would be a turning point for me, but it just made me descend deeper into my depression. Throughout the next two days, because I did not want to divulge my feelings to my friends, to talk it out, because that seemed selfish to me, I kept my emotions boiling underneath my skin. I put on a happy facade, and everything I witnessed pushed me to continue this practice.
Today has been a fair day emotionally but a rainy day physically. As I drove my little sister and I home from Science League, I began thinking about a play I had watched last weekend which implied near-death experiences caused one to value life more. This thought was so coincidental, I swear it is not coincidental.
Moments later, I turned a corner and hydroplaned; I do not know if there was a puddle there, but I was probably turning too fast. We skid into the grass and dirt by the side of the road and stared back at other drivers who peered at what had happened. I just wanted them to stop looking at me.
I put the car in park to collect myself for a moment, then put it into drive again and waited for other cars to pass by before going on my way. My little sister in the passenger seat-oh god, what if I had crashed with her in the car? I protested angrily to God, saying that he couldn’t let me crash while my little sister was in the car. Seemingly unaffected, she calmly stated the tires must have been wet.
I choked the tears down until I got home, driving excessively safe. All I could think about was if it had not been grass and dirt, but a tree or other object I had crashed into.
Lately I’ve been struggling with finding life valuable. Though I know my depression is not instantaneously cleansed with this almost-crash, this “coincidence” seems to have appeared at the critical moment.
This Thanksgiving, I am thankful for all near-death moments, jubilant, ecstatic moments, and all moments in between.