Depression Waves

To practice my writing, I asked friends to give me topics to write about.  Here is the first.  It's about a teen girl struggling with depression after being abused.  Enjoy.

I am floating on the dark indigo waves of a crashing ocean.  My body is being carried along by the tumultuous sea; up and down and spinning through waves.  At times I feel as if I’m being lulled to sleep by its soothing rocking cadence.  At others I feel like I can’t catch my breath between crests crashing on my chest-forcing the breaths to come out in shallow gasps.  I try to grab anything near me- even if it the passing shark that’s been circling me for hours just waiting for me to stop fighting and give in.  Outside the ring the shark has claimed around me I hear my mom calling for me.  I hear my best friend, Olivia too.  They are all telling me that I’m just in a pool, not an ocean.  They are telling me that all I have to do is stand up and clime out into the sunshine and warmth.

But when I open my eyes to look for them, all I see are the thousands of stars in the sky before the next wave blacks them out and crashes onto me.  When I get pulled under the water I start to remember the man who threw me out to see.  I see him in his beautiful boat full of shining treasures and promises.  I see him as he was to me those long years ago as he tempted me out into the sea.  As I try to make my way to him he changes into the blood thirsty pirate that ripped me open and stole my happiness to add to his riches.  He put my soul in the trophy case next to others that he stole from innocent girls like me.  It’s glowing in all its glory and I just want to crawl back on that ship to grab it back but I can’t escape this drowning feeling.  It’s tugging at my clothes and fighting me one day, and lulling me into senseless slumber the next.   Then it washes the cold remembrance through my heart when I least expect it. 

My mom and Olivia throw life preservers in to me but they just drift by me.  I can almost never grab one and when I do, I can’t hold on for long.  I’m being pulled under the water again when I see a light in the distance.  It’s gradually closing in on me and suddenly I’m waking from the storm surrounding me as the anchor woman on my television tells me about a local college frat boy being charged with rape by a fifteen year old girl.  I’m not fifteen anymore and he wasn’t in college when he attacked me, but I know it’s him.  Olivia and I always thought he was cute and she thought I was crazy when I told her I didn’t like him anymore.  She especially thought I was crazy because he had actually noticed me at the party we went to.  How he brought me a drink and introduced me to his friends.  She looked at me like I had lost my mind and no matter how many times she asked me why, I never told her.  Who would believe me?

Well there he was, on the TV, and there was she, Jocelyn.  She, at fifteen, was doing what I never did.  She was telling the world how this man violated her and ripped her apart, just like he did me.  As she’s crying, I see a strength shine in her eyes-glistening behind the hurt and anguish.  Its saying, ”I will fight and I will win.”

I can breathe again.  I don’t know when it happened but I’m not struggling for breath like I have been for the last year.  I look at my hands and they are coming back to life.  The numbness from the cold ocean of grief is receding.  I climb off my mattress and switch off the TV and head to the shower.  I can’t quite remember the last time my mom hasn’t had to force me to take one.  I hear her gasp as she sees the towel slung over my arm. 

I can’t recognize the girl staring back at me in the mirror.  She’s pale with sunken cheeks.  Her brown hair is in knots around her face and her eyes are tired; but in those eyes I see a resilience that I hadn’t seen since before my attack.  I have a purpose again.

After I’ve scrubbed my body pink from head to toe, and tackled the rats’ nest my hair had become, I finally find some clothes that fit me.  I pick up my bag and head to the door.  I jump in my car and drive to the police station and start to tell the first person-a kind looking, librarian-type woman what happened to me that night at the party.  I start slowly and awkwardly but as I’m speaking I feel a wave of relief and cathartic release wash over me and soon I can’t get the words out fast enough. 

I am finally climbing that boat of lies and hurt and stealing back my soul from that thief.  I am saving myself from the sea of turmoil that my life has become.  Thank you Jocelyn.  Thank you for the light.