9:21 pm - December 22nd
Here I am , sitting on a solid rock, listening to the waves softly breaking, wanting to be one of them... Yesterday I started to realise that I come here too often, not for the best reasons. When I was 12 I used to sit in this rock with my father every Friday, we would talk about school while he was fishing.
I'm Pete, a 16 year old boy who suffers from depression. Saying this used to make me feel stupid, but because of the amount of times I had to say it to the multiple psychologists my parents took me to, I got used to it.
Socialising has never been a thing to me, maybe because I've never found someone that truly accepted me for who I really am, maybe I'm not the type of person people of my age would hang out with, because I'm different.
Being different It's not necessarily bad , from my psychologist point of view "Being the one who people like to judge means that you are something that they don't see that often." But know what?! That's all bullshit she uses to be "helpful".
It's getting cold so I'm now on my walk back home. Moving to Brighton was the only good thing that has happened to me since George, my bestfriend died.
It's something magical, the lights , the nightlife but what really attracted me was the beach. I came from a cozy and small city known as Leeds, where beach is not a thing.
I remember thinking that when I arrived here my mood would change, I would have tons of friends, an awesome house where I could throw the school best parties. Guess what?! It was all a dream , I'm now hopeless about it. My parents got divorced although they live at the same house, my new school is full of jerks and I'm now living in a small Victorian house where the only zone where I can feel minimally calm (since my parents argue twenty-four seven) is the garden.
Nature has always fascinated me, it must be my best friend right now, the only one who is always there to hear my worst problems and secrets , the only one who I can truly trust. Notwithstanding a tree can't talk, the wind, the rain exist to remember me that my friend is still in there.
I arrive home, my mum's laying on the beige carpet crying, makeup smeared all over her face.
-Mum?! Why are you crying?
I've never had a good relationship with my family, but in that moment I was so scared.
My hands were shaking as I was trying to help her. I carried that devastated woman to the sofa and she says:
- Your father...(voice craking) He... He was found dead!
I couldn't even speak or move, I felt like I wasn't breathing...Yes, this is the moment where everything starts...
___ 02:00 am, 23th December ___
My mum's finally sleeping, after one bottle of red wine, screams and broken furniture. I can't sleep, feeling every drop of regret filling up my mind. Were I a bad son?!
I get up, I'm going to the beach... I can't find my keys, I go on my desk and open every drawer. They were on the last one, next to them is my mp3, so I put these in my pocket.
Walking felt like free falling and every step seems to take longer to be finished.
Five minutes later, I'm sitting on the beach, on "my" rock to be more specific. My feet hurt when touching the cold water, but I dive them in it without thinking.
It starts to rain, i get my mp3 player.
Throughout my life, music has been my only company, the one who makes sad moments even more nostalgic and happy moments into lifetime memories.
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Hi! So this was the first chapter I'm sorry if it's not as good as you imagined but the truth it's that Pete's life is not the dream one. I try to make it more positive but lying to you it's not a good start for our relationship.
