text: “Hi honey.” Mom says. “Hi mom.” I drop my backpack on a dining room chair How did you mess it all up this time? You always find a way . My head whispers. “How was your day?” “Alright I guess. I’m tired.” I yawn, feeling the weight of the day in my arms, my legs. You’re always tired. Lazy piece of crap . I tell myself it's just depression speaking, and if I ignore it, it will go away. “How’s Amelia?” Mom asks. “She’s okay” She hates you. No she doesn’t, I insist internally. “How’s her painting coming along?” “It’s coming. I told her it looked nice” What a stupid thing to say. Of course it looked nice. How about some insightful praise? You should have said something smarter. She thinks you’re boring. She doesn’t want to be your friend anymore I studiously ignore the voice in my head. “I can’t wait to see it at the show next month” Mom remarks. “Hmmmm” I mumble. No one wants to be your friend. Who would be friends with someone like you? This, I think, might possibly be true. I try half-heartedly to list the evidence against this thought. “Sara, you know that I love you” She’s lying “And I only want you to be happy” They don’t love you. “And healthy, and living a good life” And no wonder. You do not deserve to be loved. I give my head a shake to dislodge the voice. “But we need to talk about your grades.” Worthless. “I know you’re having a hard time right now” Good for nothing. “This isn’t easy for me either. Life is pointless. It’s still there, in my head. “Can we just talk about it for a bit?” You want to die I want to die, I think. Life is not worth living when you’re a person like you are. “I’m not trying to make you upset, I just want to have a discussion” A bad person. I’m not a bad person. I think firmly. “Sara, did you hear me?” Mom says. I jerk my attention back to her. “Yes, yes, mom, I heard you.” “Why can’t you just pay attention when I’m talking to you?” Yeah, Sara, why can’t you? See, I told you that you would mess it up. Listening isn’t that hard! Shut up! I shout mentally. “We’ve really got to get your grades up. I know you work hard” “I do work hard” Never hard enough “But universities are only going by your transcript, honey.” “I know!” Ugh, university. I freaking hate when she brings that up. I hold back the tears that pool behind my eyes. Because you’re too dumb to get into university like a regular eighteen-year-old I’m not dumb! I yell back in my head. “I’m not dumb!” I yell aloud. “Of course not! I never said you were” I did “You’re very smart. You’re just struggling right now. And I would hate for your struggles to be the reason you don’t get into university” University is pointless “Well, I’ll write an essay about it then, and use my struggles to get into school! Can we not talk about this anymore?” I turn to walk out of the room. You are pointless. “Well, when are we going to talk about it?” “When I’m better” I reply. You’ll never be better “Sweetheart, that’s the point. I don’t want to wait until then. Applications are due in 6 months” 6 months is a lifetime. An eternity. “If I can’t even bother to apply to university, how do you think I am actually going to do IN university!?” I exclaim in frustration, a tear slipping loose of my tenuous restraint. Useless. Stupid. Shut up! I grip my head with both hands. “We’ll figure it out. We’re getting you help. You just need to be patient. Let the meds work” “I’m SO TIRED of being patient!” Only burdensome people aren’t patient. “I’m doing the best that I can!” Mom says. “You are?! What do you think I’m doing? Struggling every day just to get out of bed, to open my eyes to a brand new day. Just waiting for the meds and hoping that this time they will be the ones that actually work!” My tears are coming in earnest now, dripping down my chin.. Give up. Give in. “I am trying my BEST to keep living. Do you know how hard that is? And it’s still not good enough for you!” “I’m just worried about you” Mom says gently. Lies. “Yeah well, so am I. Lot of good that does us.” I sniff and wipe my nose on my sleeve Look. Now you made her cry. Good job. Happy now? I can never do anything right. The thought rings like truth. You can never do anything right. The voice agrees. “Oh mom, I’m sorry” “No, it’s okay”. Mom sniffs too. “No it isn’t! I always mess everything up!” Always “Sweetheart.” “You must hate me. How can you stand to be around me?” “I could never hate you!” She’s better off without you “You’re better off without me.” I agree “Don’t say that! Don’t ever say that! It’s not true” Yes it is. “Your father and I love you very much, you know that, right?” “I know” I whisper. No they don’t. How could they? “You’re the best thing that has ever happened to us. I promise you” “Really?” “Of course. Honey, I wouldn’t change one thing about you! I only wish that you could be happy” Lies “Me too.” I sigh. “We’ll get there. It will take lots of hard work and lots of time and patience, but I promise you, you will be happy again” Mom wraps me in a hug. “Okay” I whisper against her shoulder. Don’t believe her! How can you believe her? She’s my mom. I reply silently. Who doesn’t love you. Lies. I say firmly, willing myself to believe it. “I love you mom” “I love you too honey” See? Truth. I say in my head. The voice is silent, for once.