Warnings Depression, anorexia, self-harm and suicide attempt - please stop reading if you're sensitive to triggers, for your own sake (and for mine too).
When the days are cold
It's not an easy thing to realise: that you're not made for living. It's not a decision you make lightly, no, it took years for Dominique to understand that. And make peace with it. Everything happened so slowly that it was hard to connect the dots. It started with being sad. Just for a moment, a little longer than normal perhaps, but nothing to worry about. After all, everybody gets sad from time to time, right?
It lasted longer. And longer. It got harder to shake off, every time just a little bit longer. But there was nothing special about it, so she didn't worry about it. Everything was just fine, she had it under control.
The first time she couldn't stop crying it scared her. She could hardly breathe – there were so many feelings, feelings she didn't understand, feelings she didn't want to understand. It was confusing. It was alarming. However, Dominique couldn't bring it to words, what was she supposed to say?
Hi, my name is Dominique Weasley – yes I'm related to the famous Weasleys who had important roles during the second war. I even have the Boy-Who-Lived as an uncle, impressive, isn't it? Now, I'd just like to say that I haven't been feeling well lately. Yes, I know my life seems perfect. My parents are wonderful. My elder sister is lovely. My younger brother is awesome.
Dominique kept her mouth shut and endured it. After all, there were tonnes of people who had it harder than her. She could deal with some tears.
It got harder to get up in the mornings, and she felt more and more unhappy with herself. Tears, sleep, not wanting to get up, tears, sleep... Dominique could feel herself spiralling down, further and further down.
Until she decided that it had to stop. She could change the way she was. She didn't have to be unhappy with herself.
There were two projects: the inside and outside. If she was perfect, she'd be liked. She'd be fine. Everything would be just fine. She would stop being sad and would be happy.
Restriction and exercise, that would make her stunning. Self-reflection and control, that would make her pure. It was brilliant. It was bliss.
It turned out it was hell.
Whatever she did, it was never enough. She ate something forbidden, she didn't exercise enough, she said something stupid. It was all about control and she was losing it. She was failing.
Life was lonely. Dominique was alone. Part of her accepted it, embraced it even. It was her punishment, she deserved it for messing up all the time. It would make her stronger so she could get it right. She would get it right, eventually. There wasn't another option. Weasleys get things done.
It's difficult to remember how exactly or even when it happened, but she fell a little bit deeper. Slowly, suddenly. It's hard to explain, but she... Somehow Dominique just – she lost her feelings.
It makes no sense at all. She knew that. You can't lose your feelings, it's what makes you human, but they weren't there anymore. There was just... Nothing. There was nothing left.
That's the moment when she first started to question herself. To doubt what her role was in life itself. If her life was worth anything. It made her blood turn cold, because she was terrified of the answer.
A lot of people question that from time to time, and that's completely normal of course, but it ran a little deeper for Dominique.
Her siblings were flourishing. They were on the top of their classes, they had many friends, they were loved. Dominique had nothing. She lost her friends over all the secrets she kept from them, she was failing her classes because she could barely concentrate on walking straight, never mind her paying attention to her Professors.
Then she made a stupid decision. A great decision. An important decision.
It wasn't really a decision, because she can't really remember making it. It just happened.
Tears. Numbness. A bloody knife in her hand. A cut on her arm.
It was small, barely an inch. Shallow. She was confused and ashamed, but felt like she could breathe again. She felt calm and in control. Something she hadn't felt like in a long time. She promised herself that she would never do that again, it was unnecessary and it wouldn't help with making herself beautiful.
She broke that promise within a week.
Part of her knew that she crossed a bridge and that it went too far. She had to stop with this madness. But she was almost there, how could she possibly stop now? She had to finish it.
Neat lines. They had to be straight and perfect. It was a punishment. It was a reward.
It wasn't enough.
Could life be possible, even though you're not perfect? Dominique wasn't sure. Not for someone like her. Not for Dominique Weasley.
It was a simple thought. It never felt dark or wrong. It just grew on her.
I don't want to be here anymore.
The word suicide gives you a bad taste in your mouth. People tend to not talk about it, even though it's advertised everywhere as a topic that should be openly discussed. People should be open about it. It's nothing to be ashamed about.
Dominique didn't think about suicide. It wasn't like that. She didn't want to die, after all. She just didn't want to be there anymore, that's all.
It was easy. It was simple.
Pills and alcohol.
She did everyone a favour. It would be easier for her family, they could be perfect now, without her. They'd be freed of the only thing that held them back. And she could finally stop trying. She was so done with trying. Trying and not succeeding. It was time to just stop.
Her family was in shock. Absolute chaos ruled.
Dominique had failed yet again.
Failure, failure, failure, failure, failure, failure, failure.
And now everybody knew.
Things were going to get better.
That's what everybody kept saying.
Over and over and over again.
It will get better.
It gets better.
Just give it some time.
Time for it to get better.
It doesn't.
It gets easier, perhaps.
It never gets better.
It will always be a part of her. Depressed. Anorexic. Cutter. Suicidal. It's part of her, it has shaped her. It has made Dominique into who she is today. If that's a good or bad thing, she doesn't know. Besides, it's hardly relevant. She's alive. That's apparently the only thing that counts. Alive and able to smile. Just not living.
Author's note It's a pretty honest and dark story, but don't forget where it ended. If anybody finds himself in Dominique's situation, there is always help. Never be afraid to ask. - S.