| The Wind Chime Lullaby I knew this day would come� It would have been stupid to think otherwise. This choice has always been something I�ve had to make, whether I like it or not. I guess it�s a choice that everyone faces at some point in his or her life. You have to think, what�s important to you? What are you looking to accomplish? This morning, as I stood at my mirror and stared and stared at myself, I looked for all the reasons that made me feel as though nobody loved me. I was overcome with a wave of realization; I hate myself. I hate who I am and what I�ve been forced to become. My train of thought can�t stay focused for too long, it�s as though I�m enchanted by the wind chimes at my window, and even when there�s no wind I still hear their dreamlike lullaby. It�s soothing sometimes, but at other times it can be the most deadly sound. I remember the sounds they made the first time I forced myself to throw up. There was so much wind that night. Each time its parts slammed together it sounded like a melodic clap of thunder warning me that what I was doing was wrong. But I knew, and I still know the dangers, but when you�ve got a life like mine, the fact that your routine self-inflicted illness is slowly killing you doesn�t matter so much anymore. Sometimes you just want to get away from it all the only way you know how, the only way you can. I�m still doing it; I have been since august. At first it was only once or twice a week but progressively I�ve started doing more. You see, since about a week and a half ago I�ve started doing it three times a day. It�s been a long and hellish six months, especially since now I�m facing it alone. Mom left four months ago and we still haven�t heard from her. I know it�s my fault she�s gone, but yet I still don�t regret a word I uttered to her that day in October. I still bear the guilt though seeing as the rest of my family has made sure of that. It�s just been a downward spiral since then. No more ups, just downs. I�m failing school; I just don�t see the point of it anymore. Trying gets me nowhere, so why bother trying at all? I have my homework here next to me on my bed. The orange cover of my math book looks so out of place on my dark green bedspread. The whole idea of schoolwork just seems so wrong amongst the posters on the ceiling and my drawings on my walls. I put my emotions into my art. No poem, song, story or drawing that I�ve composed is not based the truest of my feelings, no secrets are left untold in that sense. But I do have secrets. There are so many of them. I close myself of from the rest of the world, in my little room, with its depressing walls and listen to my music. That�s when I feel most free; when I�m alone. I did used to have friends. They all abandoned me when I refused to admit I had a problem. I don�t need them anymore. Either way even when others surrounded me, those were the times I felt the most alone. There�s a bird outside my window, trying to compete with the sound of the wind chimes for my attention. I figure if I ignore this striking creature it will go away. Much like the way I am with people and my problems. If I refuse to interact with others maybe then they�ll stop trying, or if I ignore myself, then will I go away? But who knows? I guess no one ever knows anything for sure� I�ve faced this choice before. It�s nothing new to me. That last time in the park, after my mom left I thought about this long and hard. Also during the summer when I worked at camp I thought about it. That was a hard job, being with little kids all day having to pretend everything was fine and I was happy. Kids can pick up on the smallest bit of uncertainties. I was careful though and kept my feelings hidden. No one knew what kind of hell I was going through inside. That was when I started to close myself off from the world. I decided I didn�t need anyone else and no one else needed me. It seems as though no one cared about me. Some of my friends went away for the 2 months and some others, even the ones who worked with me, just didn�t realize that anything was wrong. How could they not tell just by the simple fact that I closed myself off from them? That I refused to see them? Not one of them questioned my motives. Maybe it was better that way. There were a few days at camp where I was sick. Everyone just thought it was some form of the flu but I knew the truth. It was because I had tried committing suicide. I swallowed a whole bottle of pills and then forced myself to throw them up because I didn�t want to die. That feeling of depression, that being alone, was so hard to handle. I don�t know why I didn�t just let myself die. Everyone�s life would�ve been so much easier had I just let my body work its way through the pills. Not many people know about that attempt. I only told my three best friends but unfortunately, I�m not even friends with them anymore. |
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