She wasn't scared of the dark.

Neither was she afraid of what or who might be in it.

No.

It was what she had to face in the dark that scared her. And what she had to face was her own self.

Her inner self.

The version of her that only came out at night.

The thoughts that only let themselves be heard in the cover of the night.

They would crawl into her brain until she could bear no more and screamed out for help.

Of course, it was always a silent scream.

No need to worry anyone. She could at least be considerate. But sometimes she wished desperately to call out to someone.

Someone she could tell everything to.

Of course, there was no such person who, she thought, could handle everything.

So she talked to the ceiling.

About everything and anything.

Because apparently, the ceiling was a very good listener. It never told her to shut up or go away.

It never talked at all actually but maybe it was just being considerate and didn't want to interrupt her.

Still, she wanted more than anything to talk to a real person about these thoughts in her head. But she resisted it for the most part.

And once, and only once, did she ever speak to someone about her thoughts. Because that, she thought, was all they could handle.

Why bother anyone about those thoughts when they have their own to worry about?

She thought about telling her parents but then she would have to tell them everything and even they could not handle everything.

That would only hurt them and she loved them too much for her to hurt them like that.

So she faced her demons by herself.

Of course, she did try to distract herself. She tried so very hard to think of anything but these thoughts.

But she sometimes failed and they took over.

Saying that she was stupid.

No.

That she was obnoxious.

Stop.

She was annoying.

It wasn't true.

She was pathetic.

She tried to think of something.

She was only a disturbance.

Anything.

She was useless.

Anything but those thoughts.

There was no point in her existence.

Please, she begged.

No one loved her.

Please...

But soon she feels she can't fight them anymore.

And just like every other time her thoughts invade, she falls.

She believes all these thoughts that have taken over her mind to be true.

She was everything they said and more.

She was stupid.

She was obnoxious.

She was annoying.

She was pathetic.

She was a disturbance.

She was useless.

There was no point in her existence.

No one loved her.

She cries.

She cries and cries into the night.

She wanted nothing more than for someone to wrap their arms around her and tell her it was ok.

That she was loved.

That she was enough.

But no one ever comes. And no one listens.

And that is her fault.

She screams but no one hears that either.

Help. Help me, she screams.

But no one ever does.

Because no one ever did.

No one would ever come to save her from her demons.

So she screams to God.

Begging.

Pleading.

Help me.

Because she wasn't strong enough.

She never was and she never had been.

That was just the mask she wore so no one would worry.

Because her problems were pathetic.

Because she was pathetic.

So please, she says. Please help me.

She waits.

For what she doesn't know.

But He does not answer. Or if He did answer, she did not hear it.

And in that moment she feels small.

Small and insignificant.

He has other things to worry about.

How could she possibly ask for His help?

But she does.

She's desparate for help.

So she talks to Him.

She tells Him everything and anything because really, what did she have to lose?

And soon after she finishes talking to God, she calms down and remembers how to breathe normally again.

She tries to fall asleep but she can't.

So she turns onto her back and she starts talking to the ceiling again.

Because apparently, the ceiling is a very good listener.

 

Writer's Note:

This was my situation a year ago. It was a very painful experience that many others continue to face and I wanted to let them know they are not the only ones. There is help. There is hope. Please, help yourself because no one should have to go through this.

Thankfully, I have found friends who have helped me get through this rough patch in my life and I have been better ever since. I hope one day, those who face depression can get through and find the way out. Be strong. My heart goes out to you. If you ever need someone to talk to, there are people who are willing to listen, myself included. Thank you :)