Positivity: The Sword and Shield

When I was 15, I had hit rock bottom. I was plagued by chronic depression. Because of this, I was also suffering from an eating disorder, self harm, and suicidal thoughts all at the same time. The negativity which loomed over me threatened to swallow me whole. The war which took place in my unstable mind, of which I had so carefully fortified and constructed, broke me down further and further each day. I was defenseless. I had no means of defending myself, and so I often succumbed to it, allowing myself to continue losing the war. Every day was a battle, full of bloodshed. I lost every one. To me, there seemed to be no possible way to win.

One late night in the middle of October, I stood alone in my dimly lit kitchen. Everyone else in the house was asleep. I leaned against the counter, tears rolling from my eyes, thinking about how much I burdened the world, as though that might help to change the fact. It didn’t. No matter how much I considered it, I could not clear my head of that troubling and unsettling thought.

I wondered why I even bothered to stay alive. I was nothing more than a heavy weight.

I deserve to die. I don’t matter.

I grabbed a bottle of pink pills off of the kitchen counter and poured the contents of the container into my hands. I stared at them. Salty tears landed on my arm.

Why am I even here? I shouldn’t be.

I shoved the pills into my mouth. My saliva dissolved them and I allowed the sharp, revolting taste to saturate my tongue. 35 pills sitting in my mouth. I felt ready to go. All I could see was my pain and agony, nothing else. I knew that once I did what I was about to do, I would never see the world again. I was okay with that. I closed my eyes and went to swallow.

This is what’s best.

Suddenly, I stopped. My heart pounded. I was seeing something else.

I saw my best friend. His image popped into my head so clear that he may as well have been right in front of me. I saw his moss green eyes, his glowing smile, his straight nose, and his dark brown hair.

As I saw my best friend, I remembered all the other things in my life that mattered, and I realized just how many there were. I remembered my teachers, who believed greatly in my ability to succeed and achieve. I remembered all my other friends, who were always trying to help and love me. I remembered all the places I wanted to travel to. I remembered my hometown where I so desperately wanted to go back to, and not to kill myself, but to once again see the place I had called home. All these thing seized me, and I suddenly know that I couldn’t give up. I couldn’t let the darkness win over me.

I finally understood: the power of positivity was my weapon.

I knew, in that moment, that if I chose to see the good in life and look to the future, I could survive. If I chose to be positive, I could eventually win the war. I didn’t have to give in. I couldn’t give in. I had too much to live for.

I clenched my fists, digging my nails into the palms of my hands, and I spit the sickening, bitter pills out into the trash can.

The war goes on, but that day, I won the battle.