Never Enough

Its July 17 and I'm laying in bed. I'm checking "meet me" as if I have to get attention and compliments from others to even feel the slightest bit beautiful. Then this guy tells me he can see the pain in my eyes and he wants to listen, but all I want to do is say sorry, get off the app and mentally run away.

You see it's funny, because I know I'm getting worse or at least that's what my brain tells me, but it is like the rest of my body is too numb to feel it. I want help but getting help is like giving away a valuable item that you've had for so many years no matter how much you need to give it away, you feel lost without it. My item is my depression. It slips into my veins like heroin does to a drug addict through his needle.

He knows that it isn't good and that it's ripping him apart and his body physically shows it, but the inside is so numb he doesn't care. Sometimes you just get so numb you start to not care at all and that's the worst of it all. When you don't care about anything you begin to not care about getting out of bed, the next is eating and then you just feel like your breathing is pointless right about then. See. Depression makes you not want to think at all and having anxiety makes it to where that's all you can do and having them both is hell. There were multiple times in my life I wish I could stop thinking or feeling for that matter and that day I did one of the two.

I wanted to scream, I wanted to push him off, I wanted to beg him to stop, I wanted to run. I could feel his hands squeezing my sides so hard the imprint of his fingers were around my sides, I had literally felt like I was suffocating and I just had to watch it happen. As he squeezed my thighs I felt the blood come to his fingertips. His body was as cold as his heart. Although I couldn't speak, I could cry but crying wasn't enough to wash away the pain and thoughts that drowned my head like a hole in the sand when the water reached the shore. Crying was never enough for the man who touched me when I was three. Crying was never enough for the man who raped my best friend and then tried to get me. Crying was never enough when I was alone in the woods where nobody could hear me. Crying was never enough for the woman who thought she deserved every lie they told her, every critical comment and every bruise or touch.

Crying was never enough so I felt numb. Numb to the point I didn't care if I died or lived. Sitting in the middle of roads, or headphones so high I couldn't hear myself think. I saw their faces in everyone I met or saw.

Memories crawled into my mind when I almost forgot. The memories would flood my mind with thoughts, leaving me feeling alone scared and just a piece of meat for anyone to eat. Memories and thoughts so harsh and deep. One night sitting all alone I couldn't shut them off. I kept screaming please make it stop as I replayed it in my head. I couldn't breathe I was running out of the air. I called someone and began to feel a tingle in my hands. They then called the ambulance and after the longest minutes of my life they had shown up. When they had picked me off the floor I couldn't feel my legs from under me. I felt like a baby just learning to walk. I had hyperventilation to the point I was breathing 30 breathes a minute instead of 12. To this day I still have moments I can't breathe, but I have learned to pull myself out of them. For me, it's slowly getting better and I hope for anyone reading this who has been through any of this, that it gets better for you too.