Chapter 30

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Laila's POV

We were at the hospital. I saw myself being operated on. I was getting a bunch of stitches in my arms on the cuts. Those cuts were the deepest cuts I have ever done.
Depression is not a symptom.
Depression is a demon.

Depression has taken me. It has taken me and imprisoned me in a maze of darkness with no hope of ever getting out.
The mind is a terrible and beautiful place to live. Just like most things.
My mind captured me. It had captured me so I saw no beauty in it. All I saw was the terrible. All I thought about was terrible. There was no good side. It was all bad.

Sometimes, I don't want things to get better.

Sometimes, I want things to get terrible so I have a reason to kill myself.

Sometimes, I wish people didn't care so I could kill myself and not feel bad about it.

Doesn't that make me a terrible person?

At the same time, I don't choose to be depressed or how I am.

The best known feature of depression is anhedonia, the inability to feel joy.

But the worst part of depression isn't the lack of joy. It's the inescapable presence of faceless dread.

Do you really think someone chooses this?

If my depression ever kills me,
If you haven't noticed the scars on my arms,
Or the fake smile on my lips,
Or the forced laugh that I've adopted,
Or the way I don't care about the things I used to love,
Then don't dare to stand at my grave and cry.

How can you cry for someone you don't even know?

And most people I know, well they know that I'm unhappy, that I'm depressed, that I'm suicidal, but they still act like everything's fine.

You know, they all say that suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.
But that problem isn't temporary. I know that.

They may put me through countless support groups and therapy sessions. I know the will. And it's so easy to pretend everything's getting better.
And just like that, I can pretend I'm okay. It only takes a few seconds to speak those words. But a few words won't change anything. I know that things will never get better.
I used to tell myself things would get better. But they didn't. I fed myself lies about reality and I pretended everything was okay. But it wasn't, alright? It just wasn't. Then, bullying came back. And it pushed me over the edge.

Just imagine how many lives would be easier without me.
It's been selfish of me to survive this long.

Don't you dare tell me I'm beautiful
Until you've seen my scars
That carve my body
And the blood
That pours out of my soul

Don't you dare tell me I'm lovely
Until I completely shut you out
Because I swore to myself
You're just like the others
And you'll get sick of me

Don't you dare tell me I'm flawless
Until you've seen me break down in tears
I'll show you the darkness
That consumes me
And you'll run away

But if you
Have seen my scars
Bitterness
And darkness
Then perhaps I'll believe you.

I just want to sleep forever.

A
deep
long
sleep.

[A/N: this chapter is just an insight of what is going through Laila's head.]

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