Keep An Open Mind {Lynn Gunn}

12) What You Give Is What You Get

WARNING: In this chapter I'm going to treat a very delicate subject and details about depression in a slightly different way than before (no violence or any trigger though) but if you feel particularly vulnerable about it or easily influenced by negative thoughts, please don't read it, or at least do it when you feel ready. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable.

What else, enjoy!

My father was talking at the phone with Dr. Hoppus, apparently about my "depression" state.

I hate it when they call it 'depression'. Why would they try to define a state of mind? It's not like everyone that has 'depression' feels the same way. No one ever feels the same exact way to someone else. They just don't even understand what the thing with this 'issue' is.

They think it's when you just want to die and that's it, dead end, cold case, end of the book.

But that's a freaking stereotype and I'm honestly sick and tired of hearing that all over again. They know absolutely nothing and they pretend to have the answers to everything, as if doubts and fears shouldn't even exist. Well guess what? They do exist, and you can't just put a label on them and spitting out sentences insisting that things are as you want them to be.

As if trying to sink into someone brain isn't enough, they make sure to attribute a definition to you. I wonder if there will be a 'depression' inscription on my gravestone.

Let's clear the air: It's not that I don't want to live, it's that I've been searching for something to look forward to, to give me the strength to go on with this. Because at some point in your life you take a moment and ask yourself, 'is it really worth it? Do I really want to continue with this?' and you take a choice. It's all about it, making choices for yourself.

And it's not that I'm always sad, I'm just never happy.

How can someone actually be truly happy? Glad, yes. Pleased, yes. Satisfied, yes. Amused, yes. But happy? Do we really know what happiness actually is? To me, it should be something barely reachable. Something that you desire desperately, and I'm haunted by that.

I think I just don't feel real emotions anymore, that's what the deal with me is. When everyone has lost faith in you, you hardly sail on unless you have a reason to do it. My reason is my dreams.

But in the end, I believe that death is for the weak's. Obviously, not in all the cases... some people really have horrible lives and I don't blame them if they choose that direction. But my life was... well, livable, for now. I didn't like it, no, but I was going to hold on for as long as I was able too.

I admit that the idea of suicide had crossed my mind more than once, I had tried to push myself into that. but now I realize that it's just a black hole that traps you forever. A point of no return. It would be like... disrespectful to myself.

Not that I ever cared about being respectful to myself or about taking care of my life at all, but I was going to keep my dignity.

But rather than death, I've always been afraid of life. That's where the real monsters, the real darkness and ghosts are. That's what you should prepared for. We're scared of what we either don't know or aren't able to understand, because we think it's bigger than us, that we might not control.

I got out of my trance when I heard my name being called.

"Lyndsey! Come here, you're going to be late for school!" my dad called and I nodded to myself, quickly walking to the kitchen to grab my things and heading to outside, to my dad's car.

I slid in the backseat and put my seatbelt on. You might ask yourself why I didn't take the front seat, since it's empty. I just don't like being in the front. It doesn't suit me, there's not a real reason. I just feel more exposed, I don't like it.