m a d d o x * TW: This story does contain themes of mental health (anxiety + depression), **again, as always, all representations of anxiety + depression are based on my own experiences, I have been diagnosed with clinical (major) depression and Generalized Anxiety Disorder, and even though I've been diagnosed for two and a half years, I still have days that are just as bad as before I was diagnosed, although not as frequent; the following story is just that: a story, it is not based on real events.**
My best friend, Jordan, has bad mental health days sometimes--today, for instance, is one--and he just needs to stay home. Therefore, Jordan and I are at my house in my bedroom. Actually, right now, he's asleep. He had texted me this morning before school saying that he couldn't do it today. I told him okay, hang in there, I'll come and get you and we can just hang out at my house all day.
Jordan wakes up, bolting upright in my bed, crying. I whip around and look at him. "I can't do it anymore, Mads, I can't. I don't want to, I don't wanna die but I just don't wanna feel this anymore. I can't." he says in between his sobs. And about the nickname 'Mads', he's the only one I let call me that. "You can. You're strong. You've got this. Remember your tattoos? The serotonin hormone? Warrior? Arrow? You've got this." I say quietly. "No, I've got you, and you...you just...you make it all disappear...you make it better...you make everything better...I swear some days you just keep me sane, you're the literal reason I'm still here and—" he breaks off as he starts sobbing harder, unable to keep speaking. "Ssh, it's okay, I'm here, I'm here, ssh, it's okay, it'll be okay, I'm right here. I've got you." I whisper in his ear as I pull him into my arms and hold him tightly. He starts sobbing harder, harder than I've seen him cry in a very long time. His entire body is shaking as he leans his head on my shoulder. I rub his back, biting back my own tears. I wish I knew what to say...I wish I knew how to properly comfort him... A few minutes after, he pulls back, breathing heavily, tears still streaming down his face, but he's not crying nearly as hard and he's stopped shaking. I cup his face, wiping away the falling tears with my thumbs. He looks at me, trying to catch his breath so he can speak. His lips move, but nothing comes out. I watch him, trying to say something. He catches his breath and his lips move, but this time I know it's because he doesn't know what to say. I look at him. He leans forward, pressing his lips against mine--the lips that were just struggling to find words to say, but, I guess a kiss says many things. I pull him back onto me, kissing him back gently, my hands moving from his face to his waist and back to his face. "What was that for?" I ask him as I pull back, looking into his grey-blue eyes, which are still tear-filled, as his face is tear-stained. "Thank you," he says softly. "For what?" I ask him. "For being here," I lean in and kiss his lips again softly. "What was that for?" he asks me. "I wanted to," I reply, almost silently. He tries to give me a small smile, but his lips quiver and I pull him back into my arms, resting his head on my shoulder. I kiss his forehead gently, holding him and rocking somewhat. "Ssh, it's okay," I whisper. "It's okay, I'm here, I've got you. Remember your tattoos? Sometimes, in life, in order to go forward, you have to be pulled back. And semicolon? The option to stop, but the decision to keep going. Your serotonin hormone? It's not your fault, but a chemical hormone in your brain. This...this is not your fault, and I know sometimes you think it is, but it's not Jordan, I promise you. I'm here for you, your parents and your siblings are here for you, and we love you. I know it helps to cry sometimes, so cry on me as much as you need, I'll hold you until you tell me to stop, but I'll hold you forever if you want that, too. Whatever you want and whatever you need." He wraps an arm around me, laying the other on my chest. I lay back against the pillows, rubbing his back. His breathing steadies again, and I know he's fallen asleep again. I hope he's having nice dreams.
Jordan stays asleep for an hour or so this time, and when he wakes, it's not with a start, but a smile. A smile is on his face as he lifts his head to look at me. "Have a good nap?" I ask him, stroking his face. He nods. "I feel better. I mean, it's better than it was earlier. Thank you, again," "For what?" "Being here, holding me..." "Hey, look, I love you, okay? I'd do whatever I could to make you feel better," He doesn't respond to this; he leans up and lowers his lips to mine softly. I cup his face as he tries to crawl upward and closer to me.
"How are you feeling, Jordan?" My mom asks him, having come upstairs to my bedroom after work. "A little bit better..." Jordan, who's leaning against me, says. "You know, I've been doing this for almost three years and I still have days that are just as bad as the first, or before I was on medication, you know?" "And that's completely normal. That's okay, once you've been diagnosed, it never goes away. It can get better, you can manage it better, but it never fully goes away, and I think sometimes people have a hard time grasping that concept--the people who haven't been diagnosed, I mean." Jordan nods in agreement. "Yes, that's very true. Medication and therapy help, but I know that I'm still going to have bad days. And I'll have good days, too. But you're right, it never does really 'go away', you just learn to manage it, and even though you do learn to manage it like it was said before, there are still going to be some bad days, but I've got a good support team, and I can do this." Mom smiles; I meet her gaze. "Mom, I'm glad you get along with Jordan so well..." I say, as my sisters, Gracie--who's 13--, Holly--who's 16, two years younger than Maddox and I--, and Lauren--who's 21, three years older than me--, come into my room. "Because he's probably going to be your son-in-law in a few years." It takes them all a minute to register what was said; that I just told them Jordan and I were together. "I knew it!" Gracie says when she finally gets it. "Told you!" Holly says to Lauren. "I already knew, Holls!" Lauren tells Holly. Mom just looks at us and smiles. "I knew it was coming, I did, I don't know why I'm so emotional now," she finally says. "Aww!" Jordan says. "Momma, in-law," and leans forward to hug her tightly.
That night, Jordan decides to stay with me, so we cuddle up in my bed and turn on Freeform, which is currently playing Christmas movies. "Have I told you I love you?" Jordan says, turning to me. "Maybe once or twice," I say, joking. We both laugh and I lean down and kiss him softly. "Well, I'll say it again, I love you, Mads," "I love you too, J," We kiss again, and then he cuddles into me more as we watch 'The Santa Clause' until we both fall asleep.
12/21/19 Happy first day of winter! Also, now I have TWO presents, but I did wrap them...
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**Please note: the tattoos above are from Google, but are a picture representation to show you what Jordan's tattoos are!