As doubts, dark thoughts and despair started creeping and haunting her mind again, she felt weak. And lately she felt that weakness taking over all of her days, weeks, all her life. She was left wishing for better happenings rather than working and making them real and possible. She was cuddled with the victim role she so well knew how to play.
“You need to stop being lazy Emily" and that seemed to be how easy everyone thought it was. But more than that, Emily was scared to fall back into depression again. Every time she had one of her dark moods she desperately tried to stop herself from falling. She would do every and anything to stop the haunting scary thoughts she had once before.
She knew the so called “Change” she needed and wanted only depended on her. And that imprisoned her inside of her own mind. How can one search for help on an unknown path if one is the only person capable of walking it?
She had always had such an accomplished life, she seemed to be so strong before. Why was she falling into the common cracks of life when she fought so badly not to? "The cracks are what allows the light in" - she remembered some words she had read or listened to before. She wondered how can one let the light in if the night is all that seems to be around?
"Melodramatic much?" - was her second thought. It had to be. Nervous, scared Emily would always come up with something funny, stupid or completely nonsense to think or say. That had definitely helped with her “lunatic” profile she was convinced she created among her friends. Friends was another subject she now felt as something to not think about. As something seemingly real but truthfully lost.
And with that chain of thoughts Emily would spend her mornings, lunches, afternoons and nights. From the moment the new day began up until the moment she would lay in bed, close her eyes and fall asleep.
"Numb" - this was definitely when she understood her livelihood and way to wander around, the moment that word appeared on her mind. She was numb. Life was nothing but a slumber as she walked and talked, not truly interacting with anyone. But what could one do to wake up? What? How could she avoid the fear of success and proceed to give her best?
Seven months. Seven months since she last picked up a pen and tried to pour her heart out into words on a yellow paper that comforted her more than any fluffy blanket she could find. She wrote:
"How? How have I reached this far from me? Who am I? What can I do to change who I’ve become? Am I so embarrassed about myself? Am I a shadow of who I think I am? You stupid worthless girl. Why can’t I wake up? WHY? WAKE UP EMILY! WAKE UP! Open your eyes and mind! Look and see everything as you managed to see once! Why do I live life regretting when I’ve done nothing to regret! Where is my energy to live and feel things?!"
Emily cried while writing. Nothing seemed to make sense. It felt as if she had lost all her talent, everything she was once praised for. She missed being motivated, being praised, being cared, being loved.
- Why have I become ordinary? Why have I successfully shut down every single thing that made me stood apart? - she suddenly screamed as she threw around everything on her desk, only to then lean on to it crying and asking several “whys” for nobody to listen or answer it.
Her breakdown lasted for a couple of hours, leading her to fall asleep on her desk until it was already dark. She woke up as her shoulders ached badly, just as much as her neck. She looked around. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know how to.
"Merry Christmas" - was her mother’s voice she suddenly recalled while thinking that if that short vivid lady walked into the small apartment she would have to listen to a piece of Katherine’s mind. Emily wasn’t a girl who had any strong family bounds other than with Kathy, or “mommy” as she still mentioned. A wave of shame crossed through Emily’s body as she started tiding up her house’s office. She still couldn’t feel her house as her home.
She wasn’t a person to go out at night because it scared her not being able to see everything around, not being able to control. She’d stay home, continue to watch TV and use social networks like an addiction or, actually, her own company against or further into loneliness. So after gathering everything she did what she knew best besides crying, she turned on the TV and walked into the kitchen to collect a couple of chocolate bars, a gallon of milk and a slice of shame covered by shallow instant happiness. She wasn’t obese or even really fat but struggling with her weight was something she did since she started school. Her weight was intimately linked with her feelings though, and not with any health problem or uncontrollable food desire.
She went to sleep some hours later not knowing what to do about the situation she reached but willing to find a solution for the moment she was living in her life.
When the Sun came up and its rays announced the Saturday that was just starting, she woke up feeling exhausted. She wanted to start a revolution in her own life, a change, but it seemed that it was just a thought that wouldn’t live long enough in her head to become reality.
She had her typical breakfast and got her mug filled with coffee and a drop of milk in it while siting in the living room in front of the TV to watch the world news. She opened her laptop to check her emails but she had none. “Strange” she thought. She went on YouTube to listen to some upbeat playlist but she couldn’t. There was no WiFi in the house.
- What the hell?… I swear if the neighbors’ kid was doing one of his inventions and made this I’ll cut his bicycles tires into four! - she mumbled while reaching to her cell phone as her land one wasn’t working as well.
- Good morning. IT help. My name is George, how may I help you?
- Oh finally! I mean good morning. Uh.. I’m sorry. Well I have a problem with my internet connection and phone as well since they’re all part of the same thing, whatever that is that controls both signals.
- Oh I see. - she could hear the guy typing something.
- Yes. And I do need to have my WiFi signal as soon as possible as my work depends on it and…
- There is no technician available until Monday 8 a.m. Ms… - the person on the other end interrupted her.
- WHAT?!! Oh no, you’re not telling me I’ll be completely isolated from the world for an ENTIRE WEEKEND! ARE YOU?
- I will have to ask you to please calm down. They do shifts during the weekend but it is really impossible to find anyone qualified to solve the problem you’re experiencing before Monday morning. - he remained calm.
- Ugh! I should have hired the other company! Oh well then I want someone to come here Monday morning at 8 am and don’t be late as I have to work. uh.. Please. uh.. my client nr is 4325462. - she tried to calm down
- Very well Ms. Emily Carrenhat the visit is booked. Is there anything else I may help with?
- No, thank you. And it’s CARRENHATH. Excuse me. - and she ended the call without even letting the guy say anything else.
What would she do during the weekend now? Yes, she had in fact no work to do as she managed to finish and arrange everything for the following week on Friday but she needed Internet.
- Ugh! Stupid life! I can’t even… - she bumped her toe on the little table that was in front of the sofa she was siting on. - OUCH! Mmmmmotherfather! Damn it!
Emily managed to stop cursing by changing or mixing non-offensive words but people could still understand what she meant to say.
- FINE! TV IT IS! ALL DAY! - she protested and let herself fall back again on the sofa. She started zapping between channels until she just left it on a BBC documentary channel about a safari somewhere in the wild.
As she watched it she suddenly remembered how one of her first dreams was to be part of those documentary teams so she could have both the director and the biologist roles at once.
She loved seeing all those animals and imagining how would it be to be there for real. How would it be for her to just be there, see a different world, have a different life and maybe find someone.
- This is not “Out of Africa”, Emily. - she reminded herself, but she then started thinking about what would it be to write a diary about those safari days. What would it be to feel adrenaline running through her veins while watching a lion chasing a gazelle.
She looked at the time and she was in fact watching animals’ documentaries for a few hours now while her imagination had been taking her so far from that sofa.
She picked up her laptop. It could be one word or one book but she just felt like writing. And so she started typing away.