Have your ever been stuck in a constant loop of depression, sadness, guilt, or frustration? Well guess what, you’re not alone. I was at that point from a very young age, and I still sometimes come back to that point. It was a real struggle, one sometimes I don’t talk about because of how difficult it can be to even fathom. But instead of talking about, you know what I did? I wrote about it. I wrote out my feelings… not directly, but I wrote about them from a third person point of view. Through a make-believe story that others could read and know that there were real emotions put into the creation of it. It was the only way I knew on how to release what I was feeling, especially in a way that I deemed emotionally beneficial. Nobody had to listen, nobody had to read it, it was my own little creation. Something that I closely valued to my heart.
It’s funny because I actually just came across one of my stories, one I wrote when I was 13. I was going through some really tough things, so this story definitely had some meaning to me. And honestly? It still does. This story is one of my originals, if not the original. I’ll put the full thing below if you’d be interested in reading it, it’s up to you. But either way? Writing was a great coping mechanism for me. I still do it to this day, with some people being somewhat impressed witht the work that I put out.
Numb:
This parking lot always seemed so empty, but that was when I found myself parked there at 2am. The vast darkness around my honda started to swallow my car and I whilst we sat there, undisturbed. This situation was peculiar for the ones who chose to care about my business and I; only then did their curiosity turn to dust when they went back to maintaining their own business and personal life. I have always been claimed to have some sort of innovative thinking, especially on weird ideas or concepts. Plausibly, I fed into their thoughts… understood why they’d think of me that way. But to be frank, I’ve begun to see things differently. They like congregated events, I prefer the corner out of the whole room. They adore the feeling of being slapped firmly by the strong sense of intoxication, I prefer the feeling of downing an ice cold water that just came straight from the freezer. They love warm pajamas and snuggly socks on a bitter winter night; while I prefer the feel of the stone cold floor as it nips at my feet, legs, and thighs. They love the feeling of being witty together over the most idiosyncratic stupid situations, while I love the feeling of diving headfirst into the comforting and dark abyss of getting lost in my thoughts.
The chilling temperatures of the late night pressed itself up against my small, old, grey honda that once belonged to my mom. Though it had been beat up severely, this car had looked as if it somehow escaped car hell. My car was just right, small and convenient. This car has become my own and only trustee, despite the fact it’s an inanimate object.
My cheeks were still stained with the stinging feeling of the icy cold wind, the same feeling I felt from when I was a child and would stick my head out the window and let the air brush my face. The cuts, bruises, and scars still remained on my body, left from the tragic accident that appears to have happened 4 years from today. The memories of the accident have started to fade from my finite memory, the intricate storage of any sort of remarkable remembrance.
To this day I still grimace over the feeling of having trust. Giving trust, feeling trust, knowing trust… seemed like an inseparable ex-boyfriend you’ve been wanting out of your life for years. Though, those days are over. The surreal thoughts and feelings of death had come, except not too quickly. Day by day these thoughts persevered. The feeling of holding onto my emotions prolonged for too long, and it was time; peace was abroad. 4 years later, I am now out of my hollow shell that carries the pain of the past, but I still remain in the solace of this vehicle. As for the future isn’t what I had feared, but the pain of the past coming back to haunt me had frightened me. Since those 4 years, I have finally been put to my end, and have been brung to peace. My soul will finally be set free and welcomed into a fulfilling and cozy ataraxy, but I shall still remain in the same parking lot, in the same destroyed gray honda, and in the same position I have chosen to remain in. And in the end, this tone will have settled in and everything will stay in a constant motion, allowing everything to remain and end on repeat.
