July 1, 2015
Dear Journal,
Some days are worse than others. Like any sickness I suppose. You wake up and feel relatively okay for a minute, but then it hits you like a wave—solid and direct. Unavoidable. One firm and forceful push against you to knock you back underwater. Why even try to get back up when you know there's another wave coming?
Other days it hits you right away, maybe even in a dream so that all of the pain is already there waking alongside you.
On the rare days when you do wake up and feel somewhat okay for a minute, you're walking across a floor of glass and wondering how your mind will lead you to that one wrong step where the pain will resurface, bright and new and as fierce and sharp as the last time you felt it.
Today it came because I decided to brush my teeth. I wanted to feel somewhat normal for once and do something ordinary enough: to remember what clean teeth felt like. I was doing fine until my eyes drifted up to the mirror to notice the redness of my gums. I caught sight of the bathtub's reflection behind me.
The red of my gums.
The same red as the bathwater.
It was enough for me to spit out all of the toothpaste and fight back the bile in my throat.
It was enough for me to cry myself back to sleep for a while. Now I'm writing this, and I think I'm just going to go back to sleep. Have to get ready and rested for the next wave tomorrow.
DU LIEST GERADE
Amber
JugendliteraturThe Austins moved to Oak Creek Indiana to escape reminders of a family tragedy. To forget their past. For the first time in her sixteen years, Hailey Austin is without a sibling. Haunted by the memory of a sister she can never recover and a death sh...
