Slay the dragon

Disclaimer: This story deals with mentions of death, self-harm, and depression. If these topics disturb, or could disturb you please avoid reading. This account is personal to my family and I hope if you are reading this and are facing your own dragon, remember youre not alone.

This story is something ive worked on a for a while in my life. I hope you enjoy it and see the message I am trying to convey.

Falling, that's all I remember. I don't think there has been a time where the falling wasn't there since the accident. This primal fear radiating through your body telling you this isn't right but what can you do about it? It's been like this ever since my mother passed, every day has been a struggle. Whether eating or sleeping, feeling the scalding water wash over my body just trying to feel something. She's in my dreams, my sister's face, even inside of my waking world she is everywhere. I think the worst thing is when I talk to my friends they just don't understand they don't get it. They think this is just something that happened to someone they know and that it doesn't affect everyone. But to me and my family my mom was my world, my caregiver, my friend. People give you platitudes saying that they're sorry for your loss so that they understand what you're going through, but they don't know no one knows what you will go through when something happens to you. They can act nice, put on a smiling face, they can even try to make you get out and do things, but it doesn't help. My therapist tells me that we deal with grief in 5 different levels and that different people deal with different forms of death in different ways. That all of our experiences are unique, special to our own brand of trauma that it is up to us to find our dragon and slay it, not to rejoin life as if nothing ever happened, but to be able to live with it. Life becomes and new things, a completely different monster, you get up in the morning feeling just dead, you get dressed, mumble a fake greeting to those who live with you, and you go out into a world with a mask on your face. This mask is a defence so many people put up in the wake of tragedy, fake till you make it, but all it does is show people how much you are hurting. You get home after a long day at school and sure enough your dad asks if you are alright. I want to scream at him from the top of my lungs no I am NOT fine. I never will be fine again, but you already know that. You nod him off giving some excuse of being tired, and even though you are, its not the tired he expects. He is thinking the tired of a long day, ready to come home and relax, but this is different. A soul crushing monster eating at your very bones to the point you just want to lie down and be consumed by your bed. You fight this urge to just lay down and be nothing, so you go downstairs, you eat dinner, you live in this silly imaginary playhouse to placate your father. Little by little you start noticing the bags under his eyes, his unkempt shaving, the tired thousand-mile stare in his eyes. You start to realize that it's not just you that suffering, you look over to your sister and notice her wearing a hoodie inside during the summer it's 98 degrees outside. You asked her about the hoodie and she refuses to say anything but you see a sleeve dip, you see the red hot track marks you know what she's been doing. Suddenly you realize that you need to do better, to realize that yes you hurt and everybody has their own brand of suffering, but you need to be there for those who can't push through the day, can't keep going this way. The next day at school you are determined, for the first time in months you feel a purpose, something driving your life. You go to see the councillor, they introduce you to a psychologist and they promise to help as long as you want help. It feels good to talk to someone to rave and cry out, to let out that pressure that has been building up in your throat. The therapist assigns homework and I do it to the best of my ability, walk an extra mile, talk a little longer, go out with friends, try to feel life not just go through the motions. You decide that on your daily walks to take your little sister, to talk with her, be there for her like you werent before. You help your dad with housework and chores trying to lighten his load. Little by little these two come from their shell, it is an uphill battle because they have dragons of their own, but you have made it to your summit, youve gotten help and you are prepared to not only slay your dragon but help your loved ones slay theirs. You introduce your dad to the therapist you are going to see, you help gour sister to the councillors office at school, you be there for them like you wished someone had been for you. Little by little you see the bags under your dads eyes lighten, his stare doesnt seem so far away, your sister is wearing short sleeves, the marks of her pain and rage are fading almost to fine white lines. You all have your scars, hers through her skin, your fathers through his heart and soul, but they will learn to slay their dragon. It will take a while, but you will finally get to a point where you can go outside and the smile is real, the laugh is full of hope again, and even though you put the darkness away and locked in a cage, it tries to creep up, but you slayed your beast. You slayed your Dragon.