Before and Now

Before, I was normal. I was social. I could talk to people. I only cried when I got hurt. I smiled and laughed more than I frowned. I looked forward to doing things. I was active. Living was easy and fun.

Now, I'm damaged. I can't talk to people without going into an irrational panic, even if they're people I know. Talking to people makes me feel like I can't breath and I just want to collapse and disappear. I cry more than I'd like to admit, sometimes for reasons I can't comprehend. Most days I don't laugh, and I rarely smile. I can't make myself get out of bed some days. I've given up all of my activities and extracurriculars; hell, I sleep 18 hours a day. Life seems near impossible and horrible.

This is what mental illness does to a perfectly happy kid. It's not cool, it's not fun, it's not something to be romanticized. It's a struggle to stay alive. And it doesn't get easier. It's one of the only things that doesn't get easier with practice. Because you can have all the practice you want staying alive, and then life will go and knock you on your ass. So enjoy your carefree years. Enjoy that bliss. And pray it lasts.