Lost Boy Found by Andrew Puccetti

Author:Andrew Puccetti
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Trigger

CHAPTER 4

It is three o’clock in the morning. I’m exhausted but I can’t sleep. I’m too busy staring at the ceiling, picturing it caving in on top of me, instantly killing me. I think about how desperately I wish for this to happen. I am in my bed wrapped up in a large comforter, the only place where I truly feel safe. The only place where I truly want to be. The room is pitch dark, just how I like it. My thoughts swirl around in the void that is my brain.

My family would be better off without me.

My friends would be happy if I were dead.

Emma would feel horrible about what she did to me.

I can’t take living anymore.

*

After my diagnosis, my life spiraled out of control in a whole new way.

The words ‘incurable’ and ‘chronic’ kept circling, never leaving me with any peace. Any hope of getting better was lost, so I just decided from that it wasn’t even worth trying.

There’s no point putting so much effort into something that’ll never work. I’m forever crazy.

The only way I can describe depression is as a deep, dark, black hole that I can’t escape from no matter how hard I try. The air is thin and most of the time, I can barely breathe, like my throat has just closed up. I float around, desperately trying to hold onto anything solid, anything that will ground me, but I can’t grasp anything. Once in a while, I might see a dim light in the distance, and I’ll try my best to float towards it. But just as I get close, it extinguishes itself.

Many people think that depression is just another word for sadness, but I know that couldn’t be further from the truth. Sadness you can escape from after some time. Depression is quite the opposite.

I was no longer in school. I lost all motivation to study or go to class, so I dropped all of them. My body constantly felt weak and shaky, like it was going to break at any second, and it was hard for me to even get out of bed to go to the bathroom, let alone go to class.

During that horrible year of my life, these were my typical days:

4am–12pm: Sleep

12pm–1pm: Stare at the ceiling

1pm–3pm: Put on some Netflix and drift in and out of sleep

3:30pm: Get up to use the toilet

4pm–6pm: Sleep, stare at the ceiling

7pm–8pm: Finally realize I’m hungry, try to muster up the motivation to get up

8pm: Finally get myself up out of bed to make a frozen pizza, the first thing I’ve eaten all day

8:30pm: Eat the entire frozen pizza by myself

9pm–4am: Alternate between watching Netflix and staring at the ceiling

This was pretty much the way every day passed when I wasn’t with my friends. I tried to be with them as much as possible, to take a break from the dark cloud that I was living in.

Although people living with depression sometimes prefer to isolate themselves, I was quite the opposite.

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