Im Sorry For Calling.

I’m sorry for calling.

You know the sounds of the house late at night make me sick.

The creaking floorboards, the swoosh of the doors, the desolate silence, the all-consuming darkness.

Alone, alone, alone…I thought of you.

You didn’t answer the call.

I tell myself it’s okay. It’s okay.

I mother myself and you never answer.

Alone, alone, alone…

I used to loathe our friendship and the way you’d stand so high over me. I never thought I’d miss it, but I do. I miss it so much. I miss when we’d sit in those white beach chairs down by the lake, staring at our reflections and feeling the sun against our skin. I miss your touch. The way you’d hug me like I meant something. I miss how we would eat dinner and then go on walks around your neighborhood. Walking the loop, laughing, remembering old times. I miss our little talks. I miss you.

I keep having this moment and it feels so light and airy and special. It feels like a sigh of relief, like that moment when you lay down in bed after a long day and feel your muscles exhale. Last year, on my way home for Christmas, I was begging my parents to get me help because I felt so suicidal and burdened with depression. This year, after a suicide attempt and long recovery, I finally feel happy. I don’t know when and I don’t know how, but at some point, lightness slipped back into my mind and made its home there. I can’t help but be brought to tears at the beauty of it all. I’m still here. I’m still here. Against my will. I fought hard to leave and some part of me saved me. Something in me kept me alive and brought me to this moment. To this joy. To this peace. I am grateful for that now, though there was a point in my life where I wouldn’t have been. It is truly a miracle that I survived and I feel that in every molecule of my body.

I woke up the next morning. My pupils opened up toward the glow of the sun and I had lived to see another day. Just the night before, I had said my goodbyes. I had shed my last tear. I had made peace with my time in the world. But…my blood was still warm when I opened my eyes.

“You have been given another chance to live!” My sister wept. The words echoed in the back of my mind.

“But I don’t want to live.” I whispered. She never heard what I said.

It’s so hard to see any hope in my relationship with my parents. Each time I speak to them, no matter how much I try to deny it, it is so evident that I am seeking their approval. I want them to be proud of me. I want them to see me. I casually bring up how my competition season is going well, or a good grade I got on a test, or a nice moment with a friend. It somehow always seems that they are either not listening/don’t care, they turn it into an insult, or they refuse to see me in the light of someone caring and intelligent. My sisters are always better than me, worth more than me. My sister mentions her good grade, my mom tells her that she told everyone at work and my dad congratulates her. Then I tell them about my good grade, saying I’m smart too, and they laugh at me and don’t respond with any ounce of congratulations or pride. I feel invisible. They reduce me to something less than I am. They make me feel small. They will never see me. I have such depth, intelligence, and emotional capacity as a person…but they will never choose to see me in a way that isn’t negative.

I could cry. I love my coach so much. I cherish her presence in my life. She is likely unaware of the ways in which she elevates my life, but she really means so much to me. I have never before felt like someone truly believed in me or saw me as being a strong, capable person. She believes those things about me. She makes me believe them too. It is so special to have a person like that in my life. Someone who holds me to a high standard, who gives me the space and guidance I need to rise to those higher levels. Someone who speaks to me warmly and looks me in the eye when she talks to me. Someone who humanizes me, who removes me from being an outsider and brings me in toward a family. I truly feel such a magnetic, deep love for her. I am so grateful for the fact that she’s been gifted to me, placed in my life. It’s moments like this where I think that maybe someone is watching out for me, maybe angels are real. Love is carrying me through, connections are guiding me toward a deeper joy.