Chapter 1
In a nutshell, my life could be defined by only one word. Normal. The sheer simplicity of that fact keeps me awake at night, contemplating what it would be like to be a different person. I often wonder if I could walk a mile in someone's shoes -as the saying goes- and just experience that person's, or rather stranger's, reality for even a moment, would my outlook of my own reality be changed? Would I then come to appreciate the complacent -almost boring- atmosphere that always seems to surround me? Possibly. Probably.
Unlike most human beings, I don't take comfort in knowing what lies ahead. I would much rather walk around blindly, than have a map or, god forbid, a person tell me what path I should follow. Perhaps that is cause of my ever-growing dislike towards my shockingly normal life. You see, my reality is a routine, an endless loop, if you will. It flows smoothly and without obstacle. Day in and day out, the loop persists. A never-ending cycle that my person knows by heart. And while my body blindly soldiers on into the infinite loop, my mind continues working, thinking. It conjures ideas that I ponder over when every other occupant of the house is resting peacefully in the cover of night. Sleep, being an old friend of theirs, allows them access into the slumber that I desperately crave but cannot have. So, I lay awake. Staring out my window into the expanse of blackness that offers me a strange sense of comfort while pondering over whatever outlandish thoughts my mind so generously supplies. I can hear them snoring, my family I mean. Sleep wraps them in her gentle embrace and lulls them into dreamland. I have only the stars to keep me company.
To be honest, the thought that I am going insane has crossed my mind on a few occasions. It would explain some things, but then again, I don't suppose a crazy person would know if they're crazy. It just doesn't make sense. I also wonder about depression. Or I did, anyway. I talked to my youth leader about it. I told her my feelings and whatnot. But what she said to me remains in my mind to this day.
You see, my youth leader is the perkiest person you will ever meet. She is wild, fun and irresponsible. Or so my parents say. However, she has this quality that has always made me curious. Usually I would be driven away by such a, oh how to put it, happy person, but not her. So I confided in her about the numbness I can't seem to shake. About the lack of care I feel towards everything and everyone. In turn, she told me about the depression she herself fought with everyday since she was eleven years old. She told me she still has to take antidepressants daily, or she would be drowned in her depression. I can relate to that. What shocked me the most, however, was the fact that she struggles with depression. Her, the person everyone thought of as a bit of an airhead. And right then, my perspective of people changed. I couldn't judge a person just because they are different than myself or hold different beliefs. I couldn't do that since I don't have the faintest clue what could be going on in their lives. It could be better or worse than my own, but I have no way of knowing. So I stopped judging people. Stopped believing that my opinion was always the right one, because, simply put, it wasn't. It couldn't be. No one, not one single person is right all of the time.
While the conversation with my youth leader helped my moral compass, my depression was still very much intact. Due to my trust issues, I did not tell in my parents, which was what I probably should have done. In hind site, I'm glad I confided in my youth leader, she opened my eyes to an aspect of humanity I didn't know existed, and helped me realize how small each of us are in the grand scheme of things. We are all just specs of dust in a vast expanse of the infinite universe. My mind had been changed for the first time in a while, but the routine continues. And the loop persists. My mind had a new sort of freedom to it, but what was it for? My life continues. The normal one that I wish with my entire being could be changed. But fate is a cruel mistress . So I'll remain here, trapped. I'll follow the routine, and exist in the loop. I'll fight the depression, let my mind roam wild, all the while hoping, praying that change will come soon. Because someday, one of the thought I consider insane now, might begin to sound appealing. One of those thoughts that every person shoves to the back of their brains, the dark kind, might begin to shoulder its way through. And when that happens, I start chuckling, I might just hear what it has to say.
"Cassie, are you alright?"
I look up from my dinner plate to see my mother's hazel eyes looking at me with worry. That won't do. I tilted my head slightly, willed a sincere-looking smile to my face and answered with as much honesty as I could muster.
"I'm fine."
Always the same response. Always the same lie
