Somebody should have held on

So yeah, I was depressed: that was me alone, alone and more alone. At least I put on a marvellous act, one that no one could see through including my mother. But it was hard being a clock without hands; it was hard being something I wasn’t. Everybody knows that no one can keep up an act all their life and not get caught, well I thought everybody knew. Obviously I was wrong.

Six and a half hours of smiling, having conversations about blue skies, boys and butterflies; walking around the school with big burdens on my shoulders that no one was willing to take off was stressful, but I guess I couldn’t blame it on them, how were they supposed to know that smiley, bubbly, lucky charlotte had a demon, one that wouldn’t leave her alone- it more or less had her possessed- but who was I to moan it was the only comfort I had, the only thing that was constantly with me.

I have to admit it got to me. I have to admit that there was an urge inside me to tell someone, an urge to break out and show people the real me, the depressed me. That was the me that no one saw; no one wanted to see. Eventually that feeling overcame me, I couldn’t do it anymore, and it leaked out of me. I couldn’t stop it. I tried, but then suddenly WOOSH it came pouring out – as fast as the Niagara Falls and as painful as being exorcised.

I went back down the next day. I knew it was going to be different; but I didn’t know that the people that once loved, adored, cherished me would no longer even smile when I looked their way. The look changed from an ear to ear grin when they used to see me, to a look of pity; the one look I never wanted to be in the firing line of. I knew they didn’t want to be near me so I set myself a mission, a mission to make distance, and trust me I made distance. I sent them somewhere where there is no return flight home. They wanted distance so I made it for them.

Maybe my decision was harsh, maybe my reaction was harsh, maybe the whole thing was harsh but at the time it seemed like an awfully good idea; it still seems like an awfully good idea. Technically it wasn’t my fault when you have a baby the birth certificate you sign is a short contract just without the small print, you promise to feed your child, look after your child and be there when they need you! My parents weren’t there, they didn’t hold me when I cried, they didn’t ask me how my school day were, sooner or later it just came back round on them. My parents ended up felling the physical pain for a short fifteen minutes that I had to deal with mentally everyday. In a way I helped them, I helped them see where I was coming from and where I was going I helped them find out in fifteen minutes what it would have taken them the rest of their lives to understand. Not everything’s what it seems. I had to do it o only for me but for them.

Since that I haven’t been back. I’ve lived my life without them, without the people I once needed. I’ve now realized I never needed them because I never had them in the first place. I bet they never thought that smiley, bubbly lucky Charlotte would ever make a harsh decision like that, want to be alone or see through their rubbish charade. So yeah, I was depressed that was me alone, alone and more alone, but now I’ll always have something to keep me company on cold, rainy nights.