Blind to Happiness (Lookism)

A proper end

➤ Content warning: slow emotional start, death mention, suicide mention, hints of depression, trying to portray depression properly, not stereotyped.

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The last day of December, the rumored coldest day by the fans of Christmas movies... The streets and roofs are supposedly filled with snow, romantic and passionate couples walking around hand in hand, and the sweetest happy endings that most people would wish for. December was this month of happiness and celebration—the warmth that only your house can give, cozy blankets ready to be wrapped around you, and a warm drink sitting nearby.

The minutes ticked down; the time between the last day of the year and the start of a new chapter in everyone's life was getting shorter, closer to its end. Despite the few minutes separating you from what could be the best new year of your life—a new start, a sparkle of hope in your life—it wasn't as happy as you wished it would be. Even if you tried as hard as you could, it seemed like fate had chosen to destroy every other alternative route.

This year has been chaotic—perhaps not in the best way possible—and you could be quite tempted to call it one of the worst years of your life. A succession of events left you gasping for air, your hands trembling as you clutch your chest, gripping your heart in the hope that it will continue to beat normally without this weight of guilt and pain dragging you down. Maybe these twelve months were what pushed you to take a crucial decision—one that will change everything, and definitely not for the better. But what is your definition of «better»? I can't tell yet, but it was surely not this.

But who could blame you for making that decision? The pain you feel will never be the same as someone else's; even with similar experiences and lives, your pain will never be understood perfectly. Unfortunately for humankind, understanding someone fully is a dream that won't come true, and it's for the best. If I were able to understand you, it wouldn't make your pain go away, but it could make you feel foreign to yourself because your emotions won't be truly yours and only yours anymore.

Either way, despite this pain being yours, it doesn't mean that you fully understand it either. You are and will remain a mystery to yourself too; your mind keeps dark secrets that will never be unleashed, perhaps for your own good. Memories are memories only because you remember them, not because they were told to you by someone else. In the end, memories or pain are valid because you are and have felt and experienced them, even if they end up being a trick of your imagination. They exist because you do.

But I don't think it's the time for a psychological and reflective moment yet. Maybe later, when the proper time comes. Let's continue, forget what you were thinking about, and let yourself go, even for a short instant.

You know this all too well—this sensation growing inside you as you watch the clock hands moving with a sinister sound, as if counting down the seconds until the final act. Are the theater stage's curtains already going to fall and cover the future? This dryness forming at the back of your throat makes your breathing difficult; your hands shake uncontrollably; the weakness you can feel expands through your body; It paralyzes your fingers and your hands, and it moves up to your arms. You can feel it in your legs, on the sides of your spine—a numbness that almost seems painful. And finally, this last remnant of hope is drowned under a pile of memories that may never heal.

You know those memories? The ones that always come to mind when the word 'trauma' is pronounced are the ones you compare to others' own to either tell yourself your life isn't so difficult, or just to do the opposite and think your life is ten times worse than everyone else. Both are understandable, but the real question is... Have you ever tried to think about those memories you forgot, but still plague your mind and control your actions when you aren't able to think anymore?