There was once a girl who had a general idea of what she wanted to do in life. It was one of those dreams that were so unlikely, it was the stuff of legends. Not necessarily, I’m sure plenty of people have achieved dreams they thought would just remain dreams. Anyway. She knew what she needed to do to get there, she needed to work hard and work even harder. Despite having been baptized Catholic, she was never one to just let prayers do the job for her. So she studied as much as she could, despite hating it. Now, she knew things hardly ever ended the way you thought it would. So the odds of her getting anywhere near her dream weren’t very good. But this girl knew who she was, she knew before kids her age even figured out that it’s what gets you through life, knowing yourself. That’s why she was aware of the steps she had to take and how hard they would be to get to.
Things got complicated for the girl. After all, she wasn’t in any position to just dream. She also needed to save money, since she wasn’t born from a rich family. She knew what she had taken from her parents, and that just dreaming was more than what they were able to do at her age. What she had taken could never be repaid, but she would try. That’s why she needed to get to where she wanted to go so that she could do so. But it was a childish notion. Things were never that simple.
So for a time, while the girl worked hard to achieve her closer goals, she forgot who she was, chipping away at herself bit by bit. She knew what was happening, that she hadn’t been reading as many books, writing as many things, watching as many shows, or daydreaming at all. She told herself it was temporary, these hobbies would return after she achieved her goal. So she finished schooling, and everything was wonderful. The next step was to get a job, so she could start saving up for her dreams. She got a job a week after graduating, and it seemed like everything was moving so fast. She didn’t take it too seriously, because it wasn’t exactly the job she wanted. It was just a way to move forward. But it had more dire consequences than the girl thought.
It seemed implausible, but she was becoming sadder and sadder. She never thought she would be that sad. And it wasn’t even the kind of sad that anyone else saw. She was happy around everyone else, because technically, everything was fine. Yet at the same time, it wasn’t. And the girl didn’t understand. She told herself that she didn’t have a reason to be sad. She was more privileged than anyone in her position could be, she was loved, she had friends, she had a comfortable home, she had a job, she had finished her education, what more could she want? What could possibly be wrong?
In the back of the girl’s mind, she had an idea on what was happening. She didn’t really believe it, though, because it was quite unlikely, and really she had no reason to be depressed. But what if she really was? How would she tell the parents that have given more than they had to give her everything she needed and wanted? It wasn’t fair. So the girl pushed through and pushed it away. She would go on till she could no longer, because after all, her mother could do it. It was the least she could do. But she couldn’t.
First she thought she was being emotional again, the tears she choked down refusing to behave. This time, however, it was happening in an inconvenient location, and she needed to stop otherwise they would worry. She needed to stop, or else they’ll know something’s wrong. But her breath was heavy and her hands were shaking. And she really didn’t want to fake it one day more. And that day, she stayed home, and spiraled into her illness.
They didn’t really think she was depressed. If they did, they didn’t bring it up more than a couple of times. She was diagnosed with a heart condition, they found out her lungs weren’t well, and got anxiety meds along with her prescription. She eventually had to stop working, and worked to get better. She’s still working to get better.
Not really the end, yet, thankfully. I am considerably better than I was two months ago. I have noticed that when I run out of meds, I tend to be very irritable and moody. I should probably do something about that. But I’ve come a long way in a much shorter time than I thought I would, and I am grateful. I still have moments where I think very badly of myself for being unable to function as a member of society, but I guess hardly any of us can really do so properly. So I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. As a few parting words, I’ll advise you guys not to sweat the small stuff, but it is also in the small stuff where we’ll find most happiness. Go figure.