Nine Days: Chapter 9

“you kept breathing but stopped living”—Birthday Cake by Dylan Conrique

Dear whoever reads this,

I’ve had another panic attack today.

It was worse in comparison to the one I’ve had yesterday.

They’re getting worse with every day, but I don’t know why.

I’ve occasionally had panic attacks since I was younger, but recently they’re so much worse.

They’re so much more intense.

Maybe it’s fear? But I wouldn’t know where that would come from.

I’m not afraid. Not of death anyway.

I’m afraid that I won’t want to die anymore. I do, as of now, but what if Colin manages to convince me to stay?

I don’t see it happening, but what if?

When he touched me today, my body reacted a way I never thought it could.

I felt warmer. I felt like the ache in my heart got less because he was around.

But that’s not right. It can’t be right.

Colin is Colin. (Sorry because I know you will read this, Colin).

Perhaps I am afraid of feeling altogether.

I didn’t plan my life further than October 8th of this year.

I don’t have plans for my future.

I don’t know what I want to do after I graduate college.

I don’t know how to live.

I don’t know how to smile, how to laugh, how to be happy.

But Colin makes it all look so easy.

He knows what he wants to do after college.

He knows how to be happy.

He knows how to live.

But I don’t.

I will never know.

And it scares me.

I’m scared that if I stay, I will only continue to live in misery.

That’s why I can’t stay.

I don’t want to stay.

I can’t feel the pain anymore.

It’s getting unbearable.

I can’t fall asleep with dry eyes, and I can’t wake up with them either.

I’m always crying.

Always, except when I’m with people.

But even when I am with people I cry sometimes.

And now I’m crying again. Perfect.

The pain is back.

I don’t want it to come back.

Make it go away, please.

I can’t do this anymore.

I keep telling myself that it’s only nine more days. Eight if you don’t count the couple of hours I will be alive on day nine.

It’s way too far in the future.

I should have just done it right away instead of giving me more time for this stupid unalive journey 101.

Fucking ridiculous.

I am so fucking ridiculous.

My chest is hurting, Colin.

My heart is in pain.

I can’t take this anymore.

I want to leave, but I want to stay for you.

I want to stay so we can have more of these fun days together.

It’s only been two days.

But it’s been two days I have enjoyed more than the twenty years I’ve been alive so far.

We didn’t even experience anything exciting. Just spending time at his parents’ house, then watching TV in my dorm room.

But he made me enjoy it.

And today was amazing.

I like sunrises now.

They’re beautiful.

And a new beginning.

Today was a new beginning.

But it won’t last forever.

Things aren’t meant to last forever, that’s why I’m okay with saying goodbye to Colin soon.

He will continue to live happily.

I know he will.

He is Colin.

But I wouldn’t.

I would cry. And cry. And cry some more.

Colin would leave me when he convinced me to live.

I won’t fall for his trap. Or his marvelous blue eyes. God, I hate blue eyes.

My heart is still hurting.

It’s painful.

I am so tired of fighting.

Isn’t it funny how people look into your eyes every day, and yet they never see that you’re about to cry? That you’re holding back tears?

Can you imagine how exhausting that is?

Can you imagine how painful it is to be feeling drained and pretending to be the most cheerful person all day? Until you’re on your own, lying in bed, finally able to break?

Whoever reads this, please know I am hurting.

I’m not feeling the kind of pain that goes away with some Advil.

It’s not some kind of pain a doctor can make disappear.

Sure, I have my medication to help. If only they were helping.

Every single one of my days feels like I’m falling apart.

I spend every day picking up the pieces that fall throughout the day and glue them back together. But what’s once broken can’t be whole anymore.

No matter how much glue I put on my broken pieces, I will never feel whole again.

Every single day I am begging the crying creature staring back at me in the mirror to just hold on for a little while longer.

Begging myself to stay strong.

I keep telling myself that it will get better.

I’ve been telling myself that for years.

It’s never gotten better.

So you tell me, what do I do?

Do I continue to live in pain? Continue to feel like nothing makes sense anymore. Continue to shatter my own heart by allowing me to have hope, only to get disappointed again.

Or do I give up?

Do I end my pain, my suffering and move on to another dimension?

A dimension where I don’t have to feel this way.

Where I don’t have to cry myself to sleep.

One where people don’t tell you “Well, if you’re upset, you have to know what it’s about.”

That’s another thing that I hate.

When I do say I don’t feel well…I don’t always know why. Actually, I barely know why I don’t feel okay. I just don’t feel okay, accept it.

But people tell me I need to have a reason.

I don’t.

But it’s hurting when they tell me that. It makes me feel unworthy, stupid…like something is seriously wrong with me.

They don’t understand me.

They don’t want to understand me.

No one does.

So, tell me:

Do I stay, and continue to feel worthless, or do I leave and pray to God I will be happier wherever I land?

Lily