Countdown for the better

The loud explosion of the firework made even me jump and the poor dog bury her nose deeper under my hoodie. I sat on the bathroom floor with my dog on my lap. The door was closed and kept the whole family in. My parents passed me a glass full of champagne and looked at the watch on their wrists. For the past week the dog would hide in that bathroom to keep away from fireworks so not wanting to leave her alone we all decided to be there with her on the day. After all, all we needed is each other. My mom raised up a finger for a few seconds and then let it down starting the count down. The last ten seconds that bring up the whole year to memory, making you ready to finally leave it behind. And so it did.

- 10 - we said in unison and my mind rushed to the beginning of the year. I was lost. So lost, but I couldn’t push myself to ask for the way. Every day I would wake up regretting that I did. I would push snooze to keep myself for as long as I could from facing the day. Every day brought me pain and stress. Saying bye to my dog hurt me, even though I knew I would be back in a bit. Every passing person brought me the uncertainty of the world. Everything felt so far away, so strange. I changed my mascara to the non waterproof one to keep myself from crying. And it worked for me for years. I learned how to put the fake smile on, how to fool people, how to act interested, how to come up with real-sounding excuses. I learned how to trick people into thinking I’m fine and how to make myself feel like I’m normal and paranoid that I’m faking. And with that I felt like I was sinking. Like I was underwater and my air was running low. I felt so closer every day to forever staying there. I felt like I couldn’t breath. I would lie awake every night depriving myself from sleep, making my brain to tired to show me these nightmares again. Because of that I would fall asleep during exams, I couldn't focus on anything for longer than a few minutes and keeping up with any conversation would leave me in need of a recharge. I would look at the ceiling at night not feeling my chest move with my breath, not feeling my eyes blink, not feeling myself. I would see how my room lit up with the sun, but never wanted to look at the beauty of its rise. I wouldn’t see the beautiful world around me anymore. The tree that I always played on as a kid on my way from school, now I passed it as I didn’t even see it was there. I couldn't even push myself to do things that I used to enjoy, to read the books that have made me truly happy just a few years ago. I better knew people that I once heard about then myself. I didn’t know who I was, what I wanted or what to do with not only my life, but my day. Every day felt the same, every thought brought the same amount of pain and nothing felt worth it. I was so tired of finding new ways to keep myself from sinking in deeper.

- 9 - And then, after years of being drained came the anger. Everything would tip me off. A political sham that would result in hurting lots of people or inconveniences as little as not being able to fit the key in a lock. I would never act on it, but even my friends were scared of the rage that could be seen in my eyes when somebody was just walking too slow in front of me. I started taking breaks alone in the dark and quiet changing rooms to calm myself, but just walking out of there and facing the screaming masses of people in the collage building made me burst and clench my teeth. My mind would keep working on new ways to insult and hurt people. To push them away. I only felt calm and intact at home. With my dog by my side and a movie on. I would lose myself in movies, TV shows and books. That's what kept me going for so long. The fantastic worlds full of magic, strong women and solutions to the worst problems. It all always worked out in the end. And then I had to come back to the real world, when the season ended and the production was cancelled or I had to wait a year for the continuations. I would freeze people and stake with my glare even if they only looked at me on the subway. I was a ticking bomb. 

- 8 - And then came the amazing numbness. I remembered as I woke up, got ready and everything seemed so distant. The conversations of people on the subway, the screaming professor mad that we all didn't meet his expectations, even my own thoughts and dreams. I felt as I was wrapped in bubble wrap and in a warm, dim room. And I stopped caring. I was crossing the street without checking for cars everyday, a bus driving at full speed at me wouldn't worry me. What happens happens. Maybe it will change it, maybe I will be fixed then. But it never hit. I would stare out the window looking at the hard ground, imagining things that none of my friends and family can ever know about. I would carelessly run down the stairs imagining myself tripping over a step. Even the scariest images made me feel nothing. I could as much stop doing anything. And I did. I even stopped my learned habits, I stopped faking my smile. And that's what tipped my friends and family. They started to spend more time with me, bring me food to lectures as I never brought my own, buy me sweets and coffee. Ask about my day and go out of their way to just be with me. And I still felt nothing. I knew I should be happy and grateful, but I felt empty. I would stare at a wall for an hour and wouldn't even acknowledge it. I would get deeper and deeper into that until I lost someone. I remember waking up and then hearing about it. I remember sitting back down on my bed and I could feel everything around me stop. Just as my brain. And after a second, a minute, an hour, it didn't matter for me, the world resumed spinning but I didn't. I just stayed there and so did my brain. I started stuttering as I spoke faster than I thought and kept repeating the same word or stopping a sentence not remembering where it was supposed to lead. I became even more silent. I didn't tell my friends about it, I just stopped answering their messages, I would try to make myself cry so much, but I couldn't. To cry, to laugh, to get mad, but I couldn't, I was a void and every emotion would get lost in me. I would sit on the floor next to the static TV at 2 a.m. silently breaking even more. Silently screaming for help. Silently suffering. And after a half an hour I would stand up, tuck my hair behind my ears and hold my head high as in my mind was only one thought "I am broken" and only my dog kept me still going.

 - 7 - And so I closed up. Isolated myself from others. I put a wall of "I'm fine". I would babble on about the weather, classes, movies creating an image of being truly ok and open, while actually just dodging uncomfortable questions and carefully choosing safe topics. I started getting my responses to the common questions ready before I left the house. And so I grew so fond of loneliness, only then feeling careless, not caring what I said. I started hating even going out to buy popcorn or coffee. I would get every word of my order ready in my head and would feel restless every time I was in public. As I would close the door on my way out of the house I would feel the incoming doom. As something bad was about to happen. Even though it didn't I would still check my phone every few seconds to check if everything is alright with the ones I cared about, first thing after I came home would be hugging my dog and finally letting the relief shower over me as I saw that she was okay. I lived in constant fear and stress. Until it got too much. As I was in a mall alone, waiting for a friend. I suddenly became so aware of my surroundings. Every person that seemed to take my air leaving me choking. The lights attacking my eyes and making me squint to keep myself to see something. The music, the conversations, the cash register dinging made my ears hurt. A person brushing my arm made me turn around and making it too much. It all started bringing me physical pain and paralyzed me. I couldn't move, I couldn't speak, I couldn't breath. 

- 6 - Then I finally found it. Thing that helped me get better. For some it could be a person, a medication or a team of professionals. For me it was a show. I remember turning on the first episode and within a few minutes laughing. Laughing, smiling and feeling. And as much happiness did the show bring as much pain the world brought me. I felt everything. So deep. So much. I felt it everywhere. In my heart, in my head, bones, veins and all around me. I felt attacked with it. And oh, how much did I want the numbness to come back. To feel nothing again. I wanted it, I dreamed of it, I craved it. But I couldn't make myself come back to it. And with that show I understood I couldn't let myself. That I need to go forward, I need to get better. And so I played the next season with my dog by my side.

- 5 - It wasn't easy. I would be so drained after the whole day. I would run to the bathroom, turn the shower on and sit under the hot water sobbing. Digging my nails into my legs as I held them and resting my head on my knees. I would sit there until my eyes started to burn from the tears. Until they got puffy and my nose red. I would be left so tired. Like I ran a marathon. I would barely have the strength to stand up. Turn off the shower, dry myself, change and drag to bed. I couldn't learn, focus or even talk without fighting with myself to not break down. I managed to get myself a schedule. A day of work, an evening walk in the darkness with some music and then the silent suffering on the floor while everybody else was sleeping. I know I should've asked for help. Everybody wanted to help. They would wake up in the middle of the night for me. But I couldn't. As I would open my mouth to say something about my constant war my heart would remind me of the burning feeling of the past betrayals and pain. So I would close my mouth and push it away. And so the nights were mine. Mine to go through the pain.

- 4 - I finally started getting better. I could make myself go out with my friend for a coffee and talk and laugh for a few hours. I would still get attacks and breakdowns and low points, but it all seemed so much easier and more manageable. Up to the day when I waked up with a smile on my face. My dreams would get me pumped for the day. I would make myself breakfast with the music that I would sing to, I would talk freely and I started picking up the book in the evenings to read myself to sleep. I rediscovered my hobbies. I was getting better.

- 3 - But the higher the high the worse the fall. Sadly I felt the awful relapse. I woke up with my heart so heavy, my hands shaking and my breath caught in my throat. I didn't even want to move. I couldn't eat, I couldn't talk, I couldn't enjoy anything. But it felt familial and that was why I wanted to just rest there for a bit. In the feeling I knew. The feeling I recognized and lived with for so long. Just rest, for a bit, then back to work. But I knewI couldn't. And so with a lot of encouragement from my family I got out of bed, changed into my sweats and forced myself to eat a sandwich and drink a cup of tea. I felt so heavy, but I pushed through. In my fuzzy socks, tea in hand and support team waiting for me. I chose the first episode of my now favorite TV show and smiled again. Just the corners of my eyes lifted, but so much changed inside. This weight started to be lifted, my eyes opened wider and I felt hope. 

 - 2 - It took a lot to get to the point where I would open up about some things that I felt, some of my nightmares, feeling, doubts and thoughts were harder for me to express than others and I still kept a lot of it in, but I finally stopped being embarrassed about it. It was MY struggle, MY pain, MY year of going through it and its MY choice who I share MY experiences about it with and it is a part of ME. And I was proud of it.

- 1 - I came back to the now and looked at my family gratefully. I even caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and I saw that spark in my eyes that was missing for so long. And I saw myself smiling. Truly, really smiling. 

- Happy New Year - And I was happy.