Solitide

Depression; a state of mind producing serious, long-term lowering of enjoyment of life or inability to visualize a happy future.

Hello everyone, I am Martha Rollins and I have been depressed for the past two years. Well, today is making it the start of the third year but that is not the point. The bad thing about depression is there are those moment it feels so overwhelming that it seems to choke me then there are those blissful times when it feels like normality.

As I walk towards my locker after enduring the pointless chatter people deem important, emptiness is all I can feel. How can emptiness hurt so much? How can feeling nothing be so overwhelming? How am i not used to the feeling by now? The thing about depression is it does not always mean sadness. At times it is just the inability to be happy or to feel anything.

My lungs seem to be constricted and I am gasping for air. I look like a fish stuck out of water right now and let me tell you that it is not an attractive look. The room swirls as I take unsteady steps, black dance in my vision threatening to overcome me which would be a really horrible thing to happen.

After torturous seconds that could have as well been hours, I get to my locker. I have to punch in my combination three times thanks to my trembling hands. After opening my locker, my hands frantically rummage through the locker knocking down books in the process. I finally find what it is I am searching for. Without hesitation, I open the bottle and pop a pill into my mouth chewing it down. I close my eyes and count to five allowing the pill to take effect. My lungs free up as though by magic, my hands feel steady and the building stop swirling. Thanks to the pill, I have prevented a full blown panic attack. I must look like a drug addict searching for his high but in a way, am I not a drug addict? I am living off sleeping pills and anti depressants for Christ sake. Now many of you might be wondering what threw me into a panic attack. These things have triggers right? Well Leah Stephenson is the cause of my panic attack right now. She just had to open her big mouth and remind me my mother left me. How can she be so cruel? She was my best friend for Christ sake!

"Omg! It looks like a natural disaster occurred here." My best friend Cecelia say appearing from nowhere. I simply shrug and go about picking my books from the floor. I had skillfully put away the bottle of pills as Cecelia would have thrown a fit had she seen I was still living off pills. "I know you're usually gloomy but what got your panties in a twist today?" She asks me, concern evident in her voice. I simply shrug again. I just want to be left alone.

"Come on M. Talk to Cece. Gimme an expression I can read. There is a party tomorrow and you have to be there. There is no way I am taking no for an answer. Just think about those hot dudes who are going to be there. You have to come with me M. You can be my wing girl yes?" She says and I count to ten in my head. Perhaps if I ignore her long enough, she is going to leave. "Do not leave me hanging M." She persists. I slam my locker shut having put the last of my books away and turn to look at my best friend. Cecelia is drop dead gorgeous. She has beautiful blond hair the color of beach sand. It is pulled in a high ponytail so every detail of her heart shaped face is visible. Her big emerald green eyes catch the light and twinkles. Her thin red lips are permanently set in a friendly smile. She is 5'5 with curves in all the right places. Her looks coupled with her amazing personality makes everyone want to befriend her so I really do not understand why she did not desert me like every other person did.

"It is her anniversary." I manage to choke out adverting my gaze to the marble floor. Look at that! The floor suddenly looks really entertaining.

"Oh my God I am so sorry. I totally forgot." Her voice softens. I look up to see her delicate features contour into a concerned look. She is staring at me like I am a Fabergé egg threatening to break. To be honest I am not even sad. I just feel dead.

"Maybe she is happy." Cecelia says probably trying to cheer me up. Like a lot of people, she is under the belief that my mother ran away with perhaps a boyfriend or something but I know better than that. I was there the day she left after all. My mother would never willingly leave me but I am in no mood to argue with Cecelia. She is just not going to understand.

"Maybe she is dead." I say before I run out of the school leaving Cecelia shouting my name. Once I get home, I walk to the back of the house; the house my mother helped build. Majority of the structural design were her ideas. There is an oak tree there. She had planted the tree herself. How she had loved the tree. I go under the tree and kneel down before the bark. I had made a makeshift grave for her since she was never found. I had buried her favorite jewelries there.

I just kneel there staring at the bark of the tree and saying nothing. I have nothing to say. My therapist tells me talking helps but what can I say? My brain seem to flat line everytime I try to speak. I have a thousand and one things on my mind but i just cannot put it to words. She was my light, my own ray of sunshine. I did not just love my mom, I adored her. She was my everything, but now she is gone. My light is gone. I have been in darkness for two years and counting.

"Martha." I hear my father call. I turn around to see his tall broad build. His piercing blue eyes I once envied and his honey blond hair. Rage is all I can feel while looking at him so I quickly return my gaze to the tree. It was all his fault. My light left because of him. "I made you chocolate chip cookies. They are your favorite yes?" He say as though expecting me to hug him and say thanks. They are indeed my favorite but I only love the ones mom made me or maybe I just do not want to eat anything made by him.

"She would be proud of you if she were still here." He says sitting beside me. "You are excelling in your academics." He says but I still ignore him. He says something else but I have successfully tuned him out. He eventually gets bored or realizes I have no wish to listen to him so leaves me alone. Sweet silence! Now I can wallow in misery all by myself. Sweet!

I do not know how long I knelt there. Could have been years, days or mere hours but I knelt staring at the bark of the tree till darkness consumed me, wrapping me in its cold embrace.