We met in elementary school. I had just dealt with my sister's car accident. If my disability hadn't already done it, my sister's dance with death definitely put me as the most popular girl in school.
She was the new girl in town. We definitely had an instant connection and became friends rather quickly. The friendship covertly weaved its way into a bigger role in my life, to the point where I am currently terrified to live without this person.
I know that this is so silly of me to think. I've reviewed the pros and cons list over a million times to somehow help my brain become more prepared for this particular break-up.
I know that this is so silly of me to think. I've reviewed the pros and cons list over a million times to somehow help my brain become more prepared for this particular break-up.
Alas, it's hard. She has been with me for over half of my life. We've shared in new and amazing experiences together. We have laughed. We have cried.
So, why would I want to get rid of this useful support?
Quite quickly, my friend integrated herself at every friend gathering. She became quite possessive and extremely jealous. She kept on telling me that it was time to go home when we had only just arrived. She lured me with promises to watch Annie or listen to 'Defying Gravity' as loud as our ears could handle.
As I entered high school and experienced all the insecurities of being a teenager, she was always with me even as I cried on the floor of the girl's bathroom. I hated myself. Hated my disability. Hated the cards I was dealt. In middle school, she would just sit there and listen to me whenever I would have my few breakdowns. As the frequency of these crashes increased, she began to whisper things in my ear.
It's hard to matter when you're broken.
The only thing that you can do now is get good grades. But that still won't be enough.
You'll never be able to do the things other girls can. You're ugly with those crutches and walk funny.
Nobody will want you.
You'll be alone if you didn't have me. And I believed her.
I distinctly remember one night in my junior year. We were reading 'The Crucible' in English class and I knew that I should be preparing for the pop quiz that was to come the next day. My friend was distracting me with thoughts. Disturbing thoughts. I voiced these thoughts with a whirlwind of tears to my parents. They responded with a threat. A threat to be driven to the hospital. I knew that something had to change.
I entered college with a fresh outlook on life. I had begun a career in something I was passionate about. She had backed off a bit since the threats were made for she didn't want that to happen anymore than I did. College started out with the more than normal bouts of homesickness. My obsession with being perfect was ramped up even more. I definitely had to prove myself. But to who? Myself?
The beginning of college sparked the beginning of my sexual awakening. This meant dating. The doubts and self-loathing resurfaced and urged me to reach out to the only individual who listened. My friend quickly slithered her way back into my everyday routine. She was always with me in my free time or when I was alone. I had only vaguely talked about her with my new therapist. She told me that therapy was a waste of time and that my shrink only wanted to get rid of her.
Her messages got darker. They were dark enough to get me to a certain point. But never beyond. There was something there that stopped her. What that is? I still am trying to figure out.
You're worthless. She'd say. No one cares about you. Your friends are just being nice to you.
Your man just doesn't have the courage to tell you that he hates you since you're broken. He will definitely leave you. You can't be a good sub. You can't even walk by yourself. All Doms will grow tired of you. Give up. They will all find someone better.
And here I am today. 13 years later. My friend has turned into my darkness. She is my secret enmeshed girlfriend who will continue to take years of therapy to disentangle from. But somehow, I know the knot will come undone. My future happiness depends on it.
It's time to break up with my depression.
Note: This is just a glimpse of how I see my own depression. I understand that it comes in many different forms for many people. I am very proud for being able to get this down in a writing. It took a long while.
So, why would I want to get rid of this useful support?
Quite quickly, my friend integrated herself at every friend gathering. She became quite possessive and extremely jealous. She kept on telling me that it was time to go home when we had only just arrived. She lured me with promises to watch Annie or listen to 'Defying Gravity' as loud as our ears could handle.
As I entered high school and experienced all the insecurities of being a teenager, she was always with me even as I cried on the floor of the girl's bathroom. I hated myself. Hated my disability. Hated the cards I was dealt. In middle school, she would just sit there and listen to me whenever I would have my few breakdowns. As the frequency of these crashes increased, she began to whisper things in my ear.
It's hard to matter when you're broken.
The only thing that you can do now is get good grades. But that still won't be enough.
You'll never be able to do the things other girls can. You're ugly with those crutches and walk funny.
Nobody will want you.
You'll be alone if you didn't have me. And I believed her.
I distinctly remember one night in my junior year. We were reading 'The Crucible' in English class and I knew that I should be preparing for the pop quiz that was to come the next day. My friend was distracting me with thoughts. Disturbing thoughts. I voiced these thoughts with a whirlwind of tears to my parents. They responded with a threat. A threat to be driven to the hospital. I knew that something had to change.
I entered college with a fresh outlook on life. I had begun a career in something I was passionate about. She had backed off a bit since the threats were made for she didn't want that to happen anymore than I did. College started out with the more than normal bouts of homesickness. My obsession with being perfect was ramped up even more. I definitely had to prove myself. But to who? Myself?
The beginning of college sparked the beginning of my sexual awakening. This meant dating. The doubts and self-loathing resurfaced and urged me to reach out to the only individual who listened. My friend quickly slithered her way back into my everyday routine. She was always with me in my free time or when I was alone. I had only vaguely talked about her with my new therapist. She told me that therapy was a waste of time and that my shrink only wanted to get rid of her.
Her messages got darker. They were dark enough to get me to a certain point. But never beyond. There was something there that stopped her. What that is? I still am trying to figure out.
You're worthless. She'd say. No one cares about you. Your friends are just being nice to you.
Your man just doesn't have the courage to tell you that he hates you since you're broken. He will definitely leave you. You can't be a good sub. You can't even walk by yourself. All Doms will grow tired of you. Give up. They will all find someone better.
And here I am today. 13 years later. My friend has turned into my darkness. She is my secret enmeshed girlfriend who will continue to take years of therapy to disentangle from. But somehow, I know the knot will come undone. My future happiness depends on it.
It's time to break up with my depression.
Note: This is just a glimpse of how I see my own depression. I understand that it comes in many different forms for many people. I am very proud for being able to get this down in a writing. It took a long while.
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