Life

It was hopeless. I felt hopeless. There was nothing anyone could do to help me. I was convinced that I would always wake up in the middle of the night in a panic with tears in my eyes.

“ Is everything alright up there ” my mother questioned

“ I’m fine ” I replied

I quietly chuckled to myself in disbelief that she could even ask me that. She knew I wasn’t fine. My mother was a very smart woman but when it came to my mental health she enjoyed to play dumb. She was always someone who said “ you’re a teenager, you have no reason to be sad”

I wasn’t a fan of people who had that mindset. I was someone who always belived you could have everything in the world and still wake up and feel like your life is worth nothing. No matter how old you were.

I heard her footsteps come up the stairs and prayed that she wasn’t going to come into my room and talk to me.

“ what’s wrong with you”

“ I’m just not happy” I mean, it was true. I wasn’t. I couldn’t care less about anything. I had my reasons for being like this, for being unhappy and downright miserable. No one understood it. As cliche as that sounds it’s true. I had tried time and time again to explain how I felt and it just never worked.

“ you’re so dramatic, I’m not doing this with you again. I’m tired of it” she said.

“ of course you’re done with it, do you have any idea how I feel?”

“ no, I don’t understand it and at this point I don’t care anymore”

“ thanks mom, you can get out now”

I was disrespectful towards my mother, I’ll admit that. I couldn’t help it though she was someone who didn’t understand how I felt about anything.