I'll Kindly Enter into Rooms of Depression

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It was another sleepless night. All I could think about was Josh. After I got home I didn't eat lunch. I didn't talk to anyone. I didn't do anything. I just kind of laid on my bed and cried. I didn't come down to eat dinner. I replied to my parents in short, simple sentences. I just felt...like I had nothing to live for. I had nothing to do. There was no use in doing anything because it just wouldn't be the same.

I didn't go to school for the rest of the week. I didn't do any work to try to distract me, because I knew it wouldn't help. I would just do it all wrong. I tried listening to music to distract me but that just made me think of Josh and cry more. I was just a big mess of depression; half of the time laying on my bed and staring up at the ceiling fan, the other half of the time crying.

I had pictures on the side of my bed of me and Josh. I had so many memories flooding back to me as I looked at them. They made me smile but cry at the same time. They were all amazing memories that I will cherish for the rest of my life.

This weekend was the funeral. They asked for me to speak. I agreed, but I didn't know if I could really do it. It was Friday, and I had to be at the funeral home at 3 tomorrow. Or at least that's when the visitation started.

I had decided to stop crying and get out of bed for something. I needed to look presentable for tomorrow. I got out of bed and went downstairs.

"Hey, look who's come out of their room after forty years." my dad tried to joke.

I just glanced at him blankly and walked into the kitchen. I picked out a glass and filled it up with water.

"Hey Tyler." My mom said from the table. "Do you need any clothes washed for tomorrow?"

I shook my head. She must have seen it because she didn't ask me again.

I grabbed and apple and washed it off before going back up to my room with the apple and water.

Stupid clumsy me thought the stairs ended earlier than when they actually did and tripped on the last step, causing my water to fall out of my hands and the glass to shatter all over the wooden floor, water spilling everywhere.

I sighed and went back downstairs to grab some paper towels and two small trash bags. I went back up the stairs and laid some paper towels down to get the water up a little.

I started picking up the pieces of glass and putting them in the trash bag. As I was reaching for a shard I felt a sharp stinging/burning sensation on my forearm. I jerked it up and saw a line of blood from the middle almost to my elbow. I hissed in pain as I put a paper towel over it.

Eventually I got the cut bandaged up and all of the glass and water cleaned up and was finally able to lay on my bed and eat the apple that had survived through all of this. Then I wondered why I wasn't eating downstairs.

Then I lost my appetite again as I went straight back into being a depressed, pitiful, heartbroken person as everything came to me as soon as it had left. But why had it? The glass must have distracted me. The physical pain was much better than the emotional pain that I was going through.

I sighed and placed the apple on my bedside table and laid down on my bed, rolling over in a more comfortable position. I didn't intend on napping, but I eventually drifted to sleep.

When I woke up I was shocked to find that I had not only slept peacefully, but through the whole afternoon and night as well.

I yawned and sat up to stretch a little. I knew exactly what today was, and I didn't want to do any of it. I still got up though. I showered and ate half of a muffin for breakfast then went back up to my room to find some clothes to wear.

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