To The Moon and Back

𝟎𝟓 | 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫

S T A R
A giant ball of hot gas that creates and emits its own radiation through nuclear fusion.

T O  T H E
M O O N & B A C K

I WAKE UP to the sound of my phone ringing, startling me. I groan, holding a pillow over my head as I attempt to ignore it and go back to sleep but I couldn't. The ringing just went on and on, over and over until I was on the verge of tossing it out of the fucking window.

Cursing under my breath, I shove the covers off my body and reach for my phone which was vibrating on my bedside table.

"What?" I growl into the phone, my voice low and raspy from sleep.

I close my eyes as I lay back down, wanting everyone in this fucking world to just fuck off. "Don't tell me you just woke up." Alula's voice sounds and I roll my eyes.

"Okay, I won't tell you." I sigh impatiently.

I hear her exhale deeply. "Family dinner tonight, remember?" she reminds me and I instantly wish that she hadn't. "Its six o'clock, Atlas. You should've been getting ready, not rolling around in your bed."

Squinting, I pull my phone away from my face, reading the time. Fuck. I don't even remember falling asleep. What day is it? It has to be Sunday. We always have family dinners on a Sunday but the exception is that I never actually go. 

"Tell mum and dad that I can't make it." I scratch the back of my head as I sit up.

I was meant to take my medication this morning. Fuck. 

"You're coming." she says with a stern tone of voice. "Please for me?"

I sigh. "Fine." but only because I'd hate to show up and her not.

I hang up the phone and toss it on my bed, then leaving my messy room behind as I headed to the kitchen. I would make my bed but what is the point in making it if I am just going to get right back in it in less than two hours?

In a transparent orange bottle are my pills which sit atop the counter, a small, white sticker stuck to the side. I can see my name, my birthdate and then what it is used to be treated for. Bipolar. 

I don't want to. 

As I reach for the bottle, I feel all of my muscles in my right arm retracting, begging to grab anything but that bottle. I clench my jaw and snatch it quickly, twisting the cap off and then swallowing one of the small pills, walking around to the sink and bringing my mouth to the tap and washing it down properly.

I walk out of the kitchen and down the hall, entering the bathroom. I strip out of my clothing and turn the tap on hot before stepping into the shower. Once beneath the showerhead, I turn the temperature higher and higher until there is no cold left running, only burning hot. 

My skin stings and burns red but I snap out of it quickly and turn it on cold, wincing. Fucking hell.

Once I wash my hair, I lean against the cold wall and zone off. People always talk about feeling numb. In fact, I have heard multiple people in my life time express that they don't know what is worse; to feel depressed or numb. Try not knowing at all.

The biggest misconception when it comes to bipolar is believing that the mental illness revolves around being either extremely happy or extremely sad. But it is more than just happiness and sadness. It is weeks, days, sometimes months of depression, so intense and unmanageable that you can't shower for days, you spend all hours of the day lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, and all hours of the night wishing that you were someone else. Just someone that isn't you. Anyone at all.