In Time of Sorrow, One Wish I Have for You Is-

It's said, that depression runs in families. And maybe it does. I'm not the first in my family to go through this, even though at times it seems like it. There are days when I feel as though I'm a bother to everyone around me, and would rather the ground open up and swallow me whole.

I feel as though I'm a problem to everyone, and so I build as many walls as I can to keep myself in and those around me out. I build friendships with the knowing that all I do is destroy them, and I'm terrified of falling in love for fear that I'll do something to hurt  them. I don't trust easily, and when I do, it takes a great effort from me on my part to get to the point where I feel comfortable.

When people look at me, they say they see someone who's confident, beautiful and outgoing. But to be perfectly honest, what you see and what I see, are two entirely different things. I'm nothing but a broken vase, put together with scotch tape- the cracks and chips are visible, no matter how tape is used.

I'm not a thing of beauty; I know I'm not, yet getting others to see that is next to impossible. I don't possess an ounce of beauty, though others say I do. The image in the mirror lies to all but me; I've never seen anything worth labeling "beautiful" when I look in the mirror. Far from it, in fact.

I bury myself in my dance, my writing, and my books as a way to escape. Dance is my Neverland. It's where I can be found, without being lost. Writing is my Oz, and books, my hurricane. I lose myself in music and writing, movies and books, as a way to escape my own self-loathing. When I'm in another world, I'm free.

I've lost count of the nights that I lay in bed with my music blasting in my ears, as the tears slip down my cheeks and stain my pillow. I've forgotten when I first started telling myself that no one would care if I ran off to Nova Scotia or Paris or Ireland.

I've learned how to sound cheerful, figured out what exactly to say to keep everyone from worrying about me, and taught myself how to project confidence, when that's the last thing I feel. I've trained the light that dances in my eyes, and practiced the ever present smile that hides what I'm really feeling. I've discovered that, if I show the dimples in my cheeks when I smile, then they'll be too distracted to see the tears swimming in my eyes. Though there are days when I slip up and show what I'm really feeling and thinking; only those that truly know me know that that's when I'm lying.

I try too hard to please people; I make sure everyone else is happy before myself; that's perfectly normal for me. I've spent so long this way that I know nothing else.

Most people wouldn't believe the things that rush through my mind; it's not a nice place. It even scares me. The fact that I could be thinking these thoughts terrifies me to death. I lay in bed some nights and imagine what it would be like if I disappeared, if I let my thoughts out and gave up. Sometimes, I wish my imaginings were real.

I have good days and I have bad days. And sometimes there are days in between. I very rarely have an absolutley wonderful day. At times, it seems like those days don't exist- at least not for me. And there are days when I just want to die, when I want to stop living and fade away. But that would destroy those that know me; yet to me, that would be the best thing possible.

There are days when I just want to talk; when I want to tell everyone what's running through my mind, and scream at the top of my lungs until someone grabs me around the shoulders and tells me to stop. There are nights when I lay in bed and imagine what it would be like if I just broke down and said what exactly was in my head. I keep asking myself if they would care if I told them, if they would blame me, call me crazy, if they would lock me up.

At times, I'm tempted to walk into the Psych ward and check myself in permanently; on my bad days, I feel as though that's where I belong. If I really have lost my mind, why shouldn't I?

I always thought I'd be the one that wouldn't be touched by depression; I guess I was wrong. I want very much to get out of this hole I'm in, to stop feeling like I do, to smile and be genuinely happy, and to not have to hide behind it. People think I'm all dimples and smiles, but that's far from the truth. If you really knew me, you'd see that I'm not what I project.

Inside, I'm an absolute nervous wreck.

I don't want to be.

I want to be normal.

I don't want to cry myself to sleep every night or pretend to be happy. I don't want to keep my thoughts to myself; I don't want to fade away. I just want to be normal....

"I wish you not a path devoid of clouds,

Nor a life on a bed of roses,

Not that you might never need regret,

Nor that you should never feel pain.

No, that is not my wish for you.

My wish for you is:

That you might be brave in times of trial,

When others lay crosses upon your shoulders.

When mountains must be climbed, 

And chasms are to be crossed;

When hope scarce can shine through.

That every gift God gave you might grow along with you.

And let you give the gift of joy to all who care for you.

That you may always have a friend who is worth that name.

Whom you can trust,

And who helps you in time of sadness.

Who will defy the storms of daily life at your side.

One more wish I have for you:

That in every hour of joy and pain,

You may feel God close to you.

This is my wish for you, and all who care for you.

This is my hope for you, now and forever."

- Irish Blessing