Alone. Together.

Everyone has something they try to keep hidden. Mine just happened to be me. Hiding part of yourself can have a toll on your life. Most people will tell you that it feels like a constant battle being held deep within you. For me, it was more of a barefoot walk on a hot beach with the water always out of reach. It was a hard time and a hard place. This other side of me was more helpful than anyone I have ever met.

He had been there for me when no one paid me much attention. He was my best friend. My only friend. He went everywhere with me, even when I did not want him to. Time passed by, and I started hanging with some new friends. I did not necessarily like them, but it was inevitable. We spent time together every other day. Sometimes being around them made me feel comfortable in my skin, but most of the time I felt invisible. He sat me down one day, and told me it was time for some change, that I was throwing my life away and didn't care who I hurt in the process. I threatened to leave, said he would be at peace if I left him alone. He told me just to be myself. He said he could fight my battles if I allowed him to. He was strong. He made me feel secure, but I was unknowingly getting weaker by the minute.

I trusted him. He knew what was best for me. He knew me better than anyone in the world did. He was aware of how far I would go just to achieve what I wanted. I knew he would be with me every step of the way. So, I got detached from that group of friends. He showed me how. I realized they carried misery everywhere they went and I was proud to have made it out of there. Time put us to the test yet again. He got a girlfriend, and I thought that was it for us. But surprisingly she took my hand and told me she was not going to leave me all alone. The three of us went everywhere together. Every event, every new place we went, she was there for me, and especially, she was there for him. I was glad that he had someone that was not bringing him down at all times. But I guess she got tired of spending time with the both of us because she used it as an excuse to leave him. She said that my baggage was too much, that my version of the world was something so twisted and miserable that I should never let anyone see it. I guess she wished she had never known a thing about me because she gave him an ultimatum. As he stood there, sobbing in fear of being alone, he picked me. It was always going to be me.

Once she left, he was never the same. He would pretend, but I could see it in his eyes. I could feel his pain, and I witness firsthand the hurt in his voice every time he spoke. However, because of how useless I was, I could not help him, even though I tried. It came a time when I was the one holding him up, keeping him together, looking out for him. All I could do was return the strength he gave me all those years back. It helped for a while.But then I ran out of things to give. I tried getting him some help behind his back because I knew he would never do it for himself. Dropping hints at everyone he knew just praying for someone to pick up the cry for help, sadly no one ever listened. He was a good actor that one. Everyone believed his act. But not me. I called, yelled, and begged for someone to help him, but it was always mistaken as a joke. I had a mental breakdown, and he was not emotionally stable to help me. I wanted to end things by myself. He found out, but that did not surprise me. He knew my every thought and was okay with it. He told me that there was no life if the last person he trusted left him alone. He was aware there was no stopping.

He took a leap of faith and decided to trust me. We were making plans about giving up together. However, at the last minute, I got cold feet. Feelings of fear overcame my every thought, rising by every minute, just as high as the tide of an unforgiving sea. It was not until his aunt arrived for Christmas that he was forced into his first appointment with a therapist. She was the only person who could see right through him and without hesitation urged him to seek help. At first, his conversations with the therapist were dull and with no foundation whatsoever, but with each passing day, the sessions became more personal. One day she entrusted him with a task. It was not something out of this world. It was rather simple. It consisted of listing reasons to love himself before starting his routine. Every morning since then he looked at himself in the mirror, and I could feel myself slowly slipping away while his confidence rose once again. I knew I was never going to disappear completely, I no longer was affecting his life as I used to, and somehow it made me glad. I said to him I would gladly withdraw if that meant for him to move on. My only request was never to be forgotten. He said he would never dream of such thing, for I will always be a part of him.

 

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An:/*

The narrator of this story is supposed to be all the bad things that have a big impact in your life. (anxiety, depression, self-hatred, self-pity)

I'm telling the exact same story, exactly how it happened, but from a different point of view. The narrative in itself is supposed to show, how you can feel comfortable in your loneliness and depression, being fully aware of its unhealthiness. We all go through struggles, we all go through dark paths, but everyone has their own experience.*/