Internet’s out again. Anyhoo….enjoy my quick update on my state of mind in Reality, which actually isn’t too bad at the moment.
As soon as I entered my room I burst into tears. Then I saw Daniel standing at the head of my bed. “Daniel,” I croaked. I had no idea whether or not he could hear me or not, but I was at the point where I no longer cared. “I’m done with Reality,” I told him. My legs buckled under me, and part of me hoped that my head would hit the edge of my bed, and the blow would knock me out permanently.
Daniel caught me before that would happen though. He said something that I couldn’t hear and lifted me up. “I can’t hear you,” I sobbed, as he placed me on my bed. A second later, he was lying beside me, gripping me tight against his chest. “Not only do I feel like I’m dying on the inside, but I’m losing you too.” I gasped for air, trying to stay in control, and failing miserably. I don’t know whether or not he was speaking at all, but he was holding me tightly in his arms and that’s all I cared about. “Don’t leave,” I pleaded. “Don’t leave me alone with my madness…please…”
I felt his mouth graze my temple, and his hand rested on my head. I awoke several times that night with headaches which weighed a tonne and emotions that wouldn’t stop spinning, and Daniel, no matter how many times I lied and said I was fine so that he could go home, was always there. I remember that when I was crying myself to sleep, I was apologising to him again and again. I was so sorry for being a nutcase.
Then I woke up feeling better.
But I knew I couldn’t take those pills again.
So I didn’t take them. Mum was angry, but I didn’t care, I was too numb to. I had experienced three days of utter misery in a row and I didn’t want to spend any more like that. Not even if it stopped my horrible emotions, not even if it managed to stop Delirium. For fucks sake, they weren’t even for Delirium, how could they be when I hadn’t even told mum about it? They were for depression, but all they did was store everything inside until it would all bubble over and HURT LIKE FUCKING HELL.
School was still distracting. My head was still fuzzy and I couldn’t think when it came to creative subjects like Lit and Textiles. Some deluded part of me thought that maybe the ‘medication’ was a trick, a conspiracy in to rid me of my creative powers. I quickly laughed it off though. It would soon return, my imagination, I hoped. If not, I would smash the bottle of pills in Mum’s face.
Maths was good. I had been moved down from 3A/B to 2C/D and we were doing the work that we were working on in 3A/B, only it was far easier to understand. For the first time in forever, I got through my work. In my head, I was thinking I can actually do this. I’m intelligent!….well, I wouldn’t go that far, but I’m getting it!
I was only vaguely aware of a low, familiar chuckle from behind me, and it took me two periods later to realise what exactly it meant.
I went straight to the library at lunch, and I entered the little corner room to find him. “I heard you,” I panted. “I can hear you….can I?”
Daniel hesitated. “I hope so,” he said finally.
“Oh thank god.” I threw my arms around him and just laughed for pure relief. I had this huge, stupid smile on my face and when I saw Daniel’s look of amusement, I felt slightly sheepish. “I’m sorry I’m an idiot. Last night I was probably incredibly emotionally unstable-yes, even more than usual,” I told him, making him laugh. “I thought that you were fading and that you were going to vanish, and I was scared because I thought I was going mad in my head- well, that’s not so different- but I was afraid I’d never see you again and-”
“Shhhh,” Daniel told me, before he kissed me. To my surprise, there were tears running down his face.
“Don’t cry,” I murmured after a while. “Only I cry. I’m the crybaby out of us two.”
“I’m allowed to cry, I’m a big boy,” he replied. “And I love you.”
I looked back at him, eyes wide. Boys had said this to me before; Podge had, and one bad relationship years ago had also used that phrase as a way to try and coax me into unwanted activities. I believed Podge’s one though, even though I knew deep down that eventually he’d change his mind and move onto someone else. Daniel wasn’t like that, but still…
Not for the first time, I felt that rush of fear you get deep inside you, telling you that one day, the person you cared about the most would decide that he was wrong about you and leave alone in the world with nothing but a shattered heart and an ego beyond repair.
“I…really can’t imagine why,” I finally replied weakly.
“You’ll figure it out,” he said cheerfully. “One day.”
And then my friends came in and we had to shut up.
I had a Youth Reference Group meeting that evening, and after hanging out with Flash, Slenderman and Lady Delamore for an hour or two, I got on the train and headed there. That was where I learnt about the training session that Black Dog Institute would be holding.
It was training to become a Youth Presenter. Basically, if I got the job, I would go out to schools and talk about depression and anxiety. Initially, I decided that as someone with an aversion to speaking in front of people, I’d have to give it a pass.
However, as the meeting went on, I found myself more and more opinionated about things. We were discussing the idea of using a new statement to use for the logo.
“I don’t like this one,” I said flatly.
“Where depression and youth suicide stops. It sounds too…authoritative.”
“It is what the organisation aims to do though,” the group coordinator pointed out.
“Maybe so, but it sounds like…like they want to eradicate it. I mean…” I inhaled. “To me, it sounds like that if I went there, they wouldn’t be so much helping me with my problems as much as…forcing me to stop feeling this way. It’s as if they’re telling me outright that how I’m feeling is a bad thing, and because of that, I’d feel reluctant to go there, if all they’re going to do is tell me that.”
“It does make you feel a bit ashamed,” Miss J agreed. She was a blonde twenty four year old woman who looked a lot younger than twenty four. “In fact, it nearly reminds me of those church groups that go around attacking homosexuality. I immediately feel as if I’m going to be attacked for feeling like this.”
We discussed it further, and before I knew it, the meeting was over. Miss J, on the way out, told me that I did well.
I thought about the training a bit more on the way home. Talking in front of people, after that meeting, didn’t seem so bad. I figured that although I suffered when it came to reading out lectures in class, my aversion to speaking aloud didn’t apply to things that I cared about. I could hold my own in an argument, providing that I was deeply interested and engaged in the topic at hand. And telling people my story, and how, no matter how bad things get, or how many mistakes you make, you could still rise above everything and keep moving, felt like something I really wanted to do.
That’s what I want to do in Reality, providing that Delirium doesn’t kill me. I want to learn how to help people through invisible illnesses that no one else can see. I want to teach people that depression and anxiety can’t be fixed instantly with a pill or a shot, and that the best thing that someone can do for someone feeling like this is to listen, and to let them know that you’re there. There’s so many things I want to be able to say. Maybe this training will be a good start for me.
I know I have my own demons. I know that I have days where I can barely function because of them. But I understand now that this doesn’t make me the psychotic freak that my family makes me out to be. And just because they can’t accept that I’m not like them doesn’t mean that everyone else is the same. Some may even understand, there are already ones who do.
Maybe I can never get rid of it, this mad world in my head. Maybe my demons will be with me for the rest of my life. Then again, if I lost them, I’d lose my only angel too.
My goal is not to get rid of Delirium. If it ends, so be it. But I intend to make my way through both of these mad, twisted worlds, and be able to smile at the demons and hypocrites within.
One day I’ll get there. And none of you can tell me that I can’t.