Difficult Day

Some day. Difficult day.

I managed AP Statistics okay. Then came the difficult part – Bible class. I was tired and wanted to shut down. I did not know how to ask for help, and I did not want to leave class. I was in deep sadness and couldn’t really identify why. On the outside I was looking fine and holding up, but the turmoil was growing beneath. I don’t really know if it’s sadness or anxiety. It felt terrible. I walked past the counselor’s office many times, but it just felt difficult to walk in and ask for help. It was mentally inaccessible for me, so I just thought I would deal with it alone. In Bible class, I was writing down my thoughts: “I feel extremely bad at myself. I am unhappy and upset. How do I say that I am suffering and want to kill myself? How do I manage to make words work when there is so much turmoil inside? Then when communication does not work, I feel so lonely and sad. I need help.”

Music ensemble distracted me for a bit. I got to play the percussion, mallets and bells. It was so challenging and fun. The music did not sound perfect, but I was very engaged and interested in learning how to play percussion. Luckily it was not so different from piano since piano is actually a percussion instrument, too.  On the outside, I seem very excited and hyper to play percussion (that would definitely be what the teacher and classmates would say about me), but the underlying sadness was still lingering. I wondered how to get help then. I looked around me and tried to find someone to tell them I felt terrible and needed help. I saw you talking to Mr. D’brass. But I couldn’t find anyone close by to communicate with. What words should I say? What use would it be? As usual, I wouldn’t be able to tell them why I’m feeling the way I do. Once I got on the bus, I told my classmate Esther, “I feel so depressed” with a smile on my face (see how bad I am with facial expressions), attempting to communicate what I felt. She asked me why and did something happen, and when I couldn’t think of a good concise answer, I went back to my seat. On the way home, I silently cried and prayed that I can get help. I don’t think anyone noticed even though I did not make an effort to wipe away tears.

When I finally got off the bus, I managed to walk home trying to stay composed since my mom would be home, and who knows what mood she would be in? I walked past one of the church pastors on my way home. I waved at him when I recognized him. I considered telling him that I felt depressed right there, but it was too late when he walked too far away. As I walked into the elevator, I looked at my reflection in the mirror and thought, “you look horrible. You look like a monster.” I immediately noticed that I was thinking like that and hated myself even more. Aren’t God’s children supposed to be made in God’s image, so I should like who God created me to be? But I really hate who I am and how I look… When I got out of the elevator and was in front of the front door, tears started falling again, and it took a minute for me standing there to gather up courage to walk in. Please… I need more self-control over my emotions.

I haven’t really faced my Mom yet after I came home, so I’m safe. I’m not going to eat dinner so soon, because then I’ll need to have a conversation about my day, and I don’t have energy for any arguments or talking.

I wish the sadness would just go away. It feels like words are stuck in my throat, and even difficult to cry freely without fearing others will see. It also feels like sadness is draining life out of me. I think that is what I mean when I say “I feel like death.” I am going to die because of sadness. Even if I am actively avoiding to harm myself, sadness might kill me.

I feel better after writing all this. At least my thoughts are clear and the emotions are true. I wish I had a better plan to counterattack sadness when it hits at school and at home.

via Daily Prompt: Someday


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