read it and weep

The Crazy Concept I Call my Life

  
I open the door to an everyday Starbucks and then it hits me, literally. As I walk in I smell the aroma of
freshly brewed coffee. Standing at a corner I wait to order my drink and employees rush past as if I am
invisible. This is a well-known feeling. An employee suddenly walks up and I order my basic white girl
drink, a strawberries and creme frappuccino, hold the cino. I then sit down--I don’t stand for my drink like
any normal person would, but truth is, I am not any normal person. I am my anxiety, my depression--or at
least that’s how it feels at times. I awkwardly sludge over to get my drink and hurriedly sit back down.

   As I go to sit down at my seat, a man across the room from me smiles at me--which is such a simple thing,
but it makes me feel like I’m not alone for once in my life. Suddenly another man rushes in--giddy like a
child opening presents on Christmas day. He turns and says something to me that I don’t quite remember,
but I’ll never forget seeing someone with such a joy for life. I feel like that’s an anomaly: to feel happiness
while the world around you is miserable. I blame the world, society, the people who make me feel like I don’t
deserve it. But it's me--it’s me that makes me feel like I don’t deserve to be happy so what can you really
do when it’s you against yourself? But then again, maybe I’m being melodramatic.

   Music fills my ears with the kind of old-timey music they play in elevators. Sometimes I wish I lived in
an earlier era when no social media existed, no perfect competition to see who can be the happiest. The
truth is social media doesn’t even depict our lives; nobody shows the hard stuff, the trials they go
through--it’s all about if Jessie got a new puppy or not. But why do we care? Why do we care about
something so insignificant to us? Is it because society as a whole can’t face  reality or is it just me?
Yeah, I’m so persona non grata I’m like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. It’s not my fault, I think, I try my
hardest to fit in but somehow the puzzle just does not fit.

   A tall, blonde girl then walks in; she seems to know the girl behind me, and the epitome of small talk that
society hates, begins. Why are we like this? I wonder, do we really not enjoy people's company anymore
or is it just that society has turned so cruel? Society has been cruel to me at least; taunted, bullied, stomped
on, and walked all over, but sometimes I feel like I deserve it, like I asked for it. It’s hard being empathetic
in this world, people see it as a weakness, but me? I see it as a superpower. Because the ability, the feeling,
to make someone's day, or even life exceptional, is better than any drug you’ll ever try.

   I peer out the window and I notice how clear it is outside, how we forget the breathtaking ability of sight
is beyond me. “Oh Earth, you’re too wonderful for anyone to realize you.” Seldom do we appreciate you.
You give us, life, air, light, darkness, everything we need to thrive. So why do we take you for granted?
Pollute you and destroy you? Well that's a good question that I don’t quite know the answer to but I’m
sorry earth. I’m sorry how we tear you down and rip you apart until you can’t take it anymore.
Sometimes I feel like I am the earth or the earth is me. Sometimes I feel like a string on a thread if it that
breaks I am gone. You don’t know how many times I’ve hoped it would break. Countless times. Maybe
to society that’s a normal amount. I wonder when society is gonna see mental illness as real, when kids are
gonna stop laughing, telling you to kill yourself but what they don’t know is that I’ve tried. Thousands lie in
their graves as you speak those words, loved ones cry as they remember them but after all you said “it’s a
joke, chill” didn’t you? It seems busy here; life goes by so fast, so maybe every once and awhile we should stop and
smell the roses. It’s nice to clear my head because some days I can’t even get it to stop -- telling me “you’re not worth
it” or “you’re not gonna make it” -- but here I am standing saying I made it because I’m not gonna let my mind control
me. You think you wear the pants in the relationship but won’t work for me anymore. I’m a magician now; I’ve

got tricks up my sleeve and slowly you will disappear, depression. You’ve been here three years now, tried to
take my life once, and you still visit every once in awhile, uninvited, I’m sorry, but visiting hours are over.
I let you consume me once, but no more. I walk out the door of the coffee shop and realize--it’s my turn to shine.