My boyfriend and I spoke a couple weeks ago. I told him how I always felt as nothing ever good happened to me, even though I am a good person and work extremely hard for what I want. He told me to give him a second, while he went to find a letter, and it said the following, “I wish you the courage to turn the page when things are not going as they should, or, simply how you would like them to go. I wish you the strength and power to let go of all those times, even when you committed so much time and effort and put all the will of the world into it. You cannot get involved. I wish you to anchor yourself to something that can and will make you smile and cry with happiness. I wish you the desire to always dare, the ability to listen to the advice of those who love you, but then, on time, the stubbornness to decide only on the basis of what you want, of what you feel. I hope you can always start over, even when life and situations are not on your side, because those who do not start inevitability stumble in tangled memories that make them stop thinking about the future. Have the strength to keep the unconscious moments/memories lived, but not do not, for the love of GOD, live in them.”
*Trigger Warning: This post has mentions of self harm and suicide. No graphic imagery is used and this post is intended for the purpose of hope and understanding.
If life was simpler, I wouldn’t have grey hair.
So let me tell you a story of how I got my grey hair.
15 – Fifteen was my first encounter with grey hair. As I woke on my way to high school, I couldn’t be worried about a pimple on my forehead or even the tear running down my cheek in the reflection of my mirror. I was oblivious, so fixated on how I got this shining piece of platinum cells all over this one strand of my beautiful black hair. Ashamed of what I looked like, I turned a blind eye to my real problem. That year, experimentation was not only in the science lab, but outside with a plethora of different alcohols and rolling tobaccos. I still remember the day I told my father that I had started smoking. He told me to bring all my lighters up to the kitchen table, and he embraced me in his arms. He told me, “please stop smoking. I am so proud of you for telling me. I love you no matter what.” I couldn’t hold back my tears. I felt as though I had betrayed my own father, and yet he was willing to give up anything just to see me happy. But it wasn’t that simple you see. Life never is. I was depressed, and the long cuts running down my arm on the outside of bicep proved that. It didn’t last long before I was back to experimenting. I got caught many times red handed and it seemed to push me deeper and deeper into this state. Another look in the mirror and I was looking at the future me filled with grey hair. I was a failure.
16 – Sixteen. The only thing keeping me going was my best friend. He inspired me every single day to be a better version of myself. I knew I was on the edge. Life seemed almost pointless and exhausting. But there was small ray of light that came into my life. At the time I had thought I had found the love of my life. I truly cherished and loved every moment we had together. I truly did love her. But life isn’t that simple you see. Life never is. This ray of light hid my pain and depression in the shadows of the days filled with teenage love, or what we thought was love. I had pushed myself over the edge. I was depressed, but I never really saw it like that. You see, throughout my whole life I had been raised to appreciate what I had been given as I had so many things to be appreciative for. Even though my heart hurt and life seemed pointless, I never thought about taking my life. One year prior I had cut my arms, but there I was, future me. Still with grey hair, but maybe with a better understanding of my situation.
17 – Seventeen. I appreciated the first car I got, until I scratched it while on a drive without my parents’ permission. I had betrayed my parents. This part is a little hectic to speak about – but basically for 6 months my parents and I didn’t speak. I was deeper more than ever before. Those 6 months made me think. Why did I feel this way? You see life isn’t that simple. It never is. It made me realise things about myself. It made me realise that I was afraid of failure. I was afraid of rejection. I was afraid of not being good enough for the people around me, nevermind myself. You see, I love with a love so strong. I am a passionate and loud person. And I love that. I promise you, you will never meet anybody more passionate about different topics and ranges of music like I am. I knew that family was the love of my life. I needed to mend that relationship. It would take time, but it always does. When I finally did, everything fell into place. You see, I figured out that I never was depressed. I was AFRAID. That caused me to make stupid mistakes influenced by “Suicide Stereotypes”. The cutting, drinking, smoking, was all influenced to what I believed was depression. But that’s apart of my life. Failure. I was no longer afraid of failure and realised that my grey hair was a lesson I needed to learn from. I looked in the mirror again, and though my hair was still grey, I was wiser and stronger than ever. I actually never really knew what it felt like to be depressed.
18 – Eighteen. I still remember the phone call I got. My friend had just committed suicide. I finally got my first taste of death. He walked into my room in a dream and said time is of the essence. Memento Mori, Memento Vivere, Carpe Diem. I had lost my friend, and there was nothing I could do. He was gone. His death had made me realise once again to appreciate the things I have in life. I miss my friend and I love him more than ever. I had done my research now on the topic of Depression and Suicide. I was enlightened. But life is never that simple. It never really is.
20 – Twenty. I am now 20 and I am happier and healthier (with a lot of grey hair) than I have ever been. I have been blessed with such amazing friends that I do not deserve. But my heart is sore for the people that are struggling in this world. People fighting against Mental Health Issues, Gender Based Violence, LGBTQA+ rights, COVID-19 and climate change. I often think to myself that many of those people must have fears that have caused them to believe they are depressed, because of the way people view depression in society today. I would like for some of your advice, knowing what I know about you. How can we educate people about depression and teach them the difference between “fear” (such as my fear which influenced me to do certain actions that fall under the depression category) and “depression”?
what was that song
they used to sing
when we were kids?
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
the one
about the boy
and the girl
in the tree.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
I think
it was about
you and me.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
(at least we figured it out
eventually.)
maybe we didn’t get to do
all we planned to.
maybe we all wish
we had one last dance
before 2020 even gave us a chance.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
but we still learnt to live,
even between all the sokkie workshops;
and we still learnt to love,
even when the going got tough;
and most of all we still learnt to dance,
even when it felt like we can’t.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
and I guess that -
that is all that really matters.
