Don’t look. Don’t look at my face, my eyes. Don’t look past the laughs, the shoulder shrugs and the easy-going nature. Don’t look because then you’ll see. Don’t look.
The mask. That’s all you hear about. How people wear masks to hide their true face. How the people who laugh the loudest, smile the most, how they have something to hide. Something deep and dark and heart wrenching.
They don’t want you to look. Don’t want you to see. See that they are one wrong word away from breaking down, breaking up, falling apart. That appears to be what happened to actor and comedian Robin Williams. Years of hiding behind the masks of laughter and assumed joy. Thrown away by a belt noose and two-slit wrists.
And when it gets dark, and when it gets cold, it gets worse. Because the sun is gone, and the light of day no longer shines upon your face, and sometimes it gets too quiet. Quiet to the point that everything you’ve been pushing away from in your head gets louder. More demanding.
And for a while you’re okay. Things don’t seem as bad. Besides, it gets better. That’s the motto we live by. It. Gets. Better. And though that may be true, it doesn’t tell us how to deal with now. How to stay positive in the face of one’s greatest adversary. Yourself.
How to ignore the voices in your head that tell you you’re not good enough. Not smart enough. Not nice enough. Not pretty enough. Just not enough. And no matter what you do, you’ll never be enough. I’ll never be enough.
How to not look in the mirror and only see the bad. See the not good enough aspect and nothing else.
And then you hear those words again. It gets better.
Better than the soulless eyes staring back at you. Better than the scars that decorate you like the lights of a Christmas tree. Better than the tears you wish you could shed but they just won’t fall.
And for me, it got better. Not quickly. Not easily. But it got better. Because I talked. Because I screamed. Because I realized that no matter how awful things got, no matter how bleak and dreary and hopeless life seemed at the moment, I wanted to live. I want to live.
I want to graduate from high school and go to college. I want to find a job that I’ll love and I want to do it well. I want to get married one day. I want to live a life of no regrets. I want to live in this world.
Not in a world where, it gets better, is the only thing I have to look forward to. But in a world where hope is evident. A world where mental illnesses are not a joke to be plastered on a shirt. Or something to be praised in books or popular websites. A world where it’s cool, disgustingly cool, to feel empty inside. And that is the world that we are creating.
I want to live in a world where people like me can get help. Help that works. Help that goes beyond the words of, it gets better. I want a world that I can present to people like me, and they see a world they want to continue living in.
It’s cold again. Winter weather is stirring the darkness I believed I had beaten. And it has made me realize that this burden will be by my side for the rest of my life. That there will be days where the voices of self hate and self doubt will be louder and stronger than me. I’ve realized, that living is one of the hardest things a person can do. But I’m up to the challenge. Because with the help of my family, friends, counselors and doctors, I’ve become okay.
I’m content. And my goal now, is to become more than content. I want to be happy. Joyous. Overwhelmed by the feeling of goodness and light. So I will pull my way through this dark path. I’ll fight against the voice within, because eventually winter will end. Eventually it will be light, and warm, and I will be there to see it. And to those out there who have to fight themselves everyday so that they won’t take the step towards death, I will not give you the cop out answer of it gets better.
Instead, I say to look for the light in your life. Whether that’s a parent, a sibling, a friend or a lover. Look for it. Grasp it with all your might and live. Spring is just around the corner. Stay strong.
