Author's Note: This is just Ryan drabble. I hope you like it. Just to
explain it a little bit, the beginning part is in second person as if Ryan
is thinking this not about himself but people in general. Then it switches
to first person Ryan pov. Hope that helps.
I shiver and not a weak shiver. This is the type of shiver that starts at the small of the back and makes its way up the spine, extending to the arms. This shiver leaves me feeling cold and alone.
Depression doesn't come overnight. It creeps into your life rearing its ugly head. Once you experience it, you'll never forget what it feels like; therefore, when it comes again you'll know. You'll recognize it and cringe and binge on a carton of icecream knowing it's unavoidable. Like ALS, it lets itself known and takes just enough time to fully develop so that you think, hope that it went away. Then like a storm it explodes.
Suddenly ideas and thoughts of self-mutilation fill your mind. What you once thought you'd never do, you begin to daydream about just so you'll be able to feel something besides emptiness. You'll have the blood to be your friend and the sting to remind you you're human.
When I lived in Chino, I never really got depressed, not like this. I didn't know my life wasn't normal. Sure I had an idea that most families didn't consist of drunken mothers and incarcerated fathers, but I knew nothing else.
Now I've been spoiled and weakened. I now know what's out there, and I've soaked all that's available to me. I relish in the possibilities. Ideas of college and careers in architecture fill my mind. Suddenly, I won't be working construction for a living. Instead I can plan the construction zones, or I don't even have to go into architecture at all. The thing is now I can be whatever I want, and it scares me. Now I have options and expectations to live up to, and I am so damn afraid I'll screw it up and end up back in Chino. Only this time it would be different because I would have known a life beyond Chino.
For the first time since my inner monologue began, I glance down. Blood runs down my arm dripping onto the tile in the bathroom. The razor lies next to me feet, now crimson. Upset that I register no pain, I bend down and pick up the razor and hurl it across the room. It hits the shower stall wall and crashes to the bottom of the tub. I put my arm under the faucet and wash away the blood. Satisfied, I turn the light off and leave the bathroom putting on a façade once again.
~Finish~
I shiver and not a weak shiver. This is the type of shiver that starts at the small of the back and makes its way up the spine, extending to the arms. This shiver leaves me feeling cold and alone.
Depression doesn't come overnight. It creeps into your life rearing its ugly head. Once you experience it, you'll never forget what it feels like; therefore, when it comes again you'll know. You'll recognize it and cringe and binge on a carton of icecream knowing it's unavoidable. Like ALS, it lets itself known and takes just enough time to fully develop so that you think, hope that it went away. Then like a storm it explodes.
Suddenly ideas and thoughts of self-mutilation fill your mind. What you once thought you'd never do, you begin to daydream about just so you'll be able to feel something besides emptiness. You'll have the blood to be your friend and the sting to remind you you're human.
When I lived in Chino, I never really got depressed, not like this. I didn't know my life wasn't normal. Sure I had an idea that most families didn't consist of drunken mothers and incarcerated fathers, but I knew nothing else.
Now I've been spoiled and weakened. I now know what's out there, and I've soaked all that's available to me. I relish in the possibilities. Ideas of college and careers in architecture fill my mind. Suddenly, I won't be working construction for a living. Instead I can plan the construction zones, or I don't even have to go into architecture at all. The thing is now I can be whatever I want, and it scares me. Now I have options and expectations to live up to, and I am so damn afraid I'll screw it up and end up back in Chino. Only this time it would be different because I would have known a life beyond Chino.
For the first time since my inner monologue began, I glance down. Blood runs down my arm dripping onto the tile in the bathroom. The razor lies next to me feet, now crimson. Upset that I register no pain, I bend down and pick up the razor and hurl it across the room. It hits the shower stall wall and crashes to the bottom of the tub. I put my arm under the faucet and wash away the blood. Satisfied, I turn the light off and leave the bathroom putting on a façade once again.
~Finish~