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It’s 1 o’clock in the night and I’m not sleeping. I’m trying so hard not to move, not to make her aware that I’m there, sitting in my chair, with my arms wrapped tightly around my knees, imagining I’m inside my protective ball, where pain cannot pierce in…

I see her crying, it’s almost an hour since she started and she’ll probably continue all through the night. Her moves are automatic, robotic, she’s washing the dishes and she has plenty to wash. I’d offer to help, but I’m afraid to speak. I’m also afraid to cry even if I’m convinced that she wont notice.

She’s carrying an imaginary dialogue in her mind. I know it because, from time to time, her lips are moving and her eyebrows are raising just like in a conversation. I’m thinking that she might lose her mind, I’m thinking that she stopped loving me, I’m thinking I’m a burden to her.

It’s cold and I’m trembling, but there’s no way I’m going to sleep. I’m playing with the crumbles of bread on the table. The leftovers from our dinner…the table looks devastated, ugly, dirty and I don’t want this food! I wont eat and I wont sleep, I wont speak and I wont cry. I wont smile until…

She’s turning to me and I can’t even look at her. The swollen eyes, all red from crying, the greasy hair…She used to be beautiful, I hate this ugly side of her! She stars at me, but she can’t see me. She takes the big, sharp knife, the one I’m not supposed to touch and she’s starting to eat. That’s so silly, I’m laughing inside me, a nervous laugh. She’s eating the whole cake, piece by piece. She’s overweight and she’s eating the whole cake! The one I refused to taste before…

It’s my fault. I don’t know how, I don’t know why and I have no idea how to fix this. But it’s my fault. And I’m so small, so powerless, so…invisible. I hate her and I love her at the same time. I’m only 9…and I’m already a horrible person.

She needs a man in her life. Someone who’d make her laugh, someone who’d make her feel loved and beautiful. She needs the whole package! She needs a vacation, a sunny place. She needs a honeymoon. And I’m a burden. And my dad it’s an idiot. And she’s ugly, fat, depressive and hysterical. And I love her more than life itself…

It’s 2 o’clock in the night, I have school tomorrow. I leave her there, with the big knife, with her imaginary dialogue and her broken heart. I’m going to my room and I’m closing the door, using the key I stole from her. I open the window.

The boy from the Moon smiles at me. I smile back and I climb to the edge of my window. I open my arms like flying, but still I’m not brave enough. I still can’t take the fall. Maybe tomorrow.

“I swear I’ll never be like her! I’ll always be pretty and thin! I’ll never cry so my face wont get so ugly and wrinkled! I’ll wear pretty dresses and my hair will be long and shiny. My husband will love me! He’ll take me to sunny places and we’ll have the perfect family.”

Yeah, right.

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13 thoughts on “Sad woman, don’t you cry! (a child’s perspective on depression)

  1. On a bad day you look amazing, on a good day you can outshine the sun. On a bad day there are drops of tears in my car and on the sheets, on a good day a don’t have to concentrate just to take another breath. On a bad day i’ll miss you, on a good day i’ll hold you in my arms, i’ll touch your cheeks and make you shine. ❤

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    1. I feel so blessed now, my wonderful Roger, so grateful and honored to have you as my friend! On every day, good or bad, this bridge of light between our worlds is a gift from God. On bad days, you are a miracle and your words touch my heart, healing old wounds. May God be with you, every day, every step, every blessing!

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  2. Oh my dearest Claudia…The struggles that you face are oh so real. But I want you to know this…even on the darkest of days, you will have the strength to overcome any obstacle. The love/hate between the child and adult, I wish there was a way to take the pain away but, ultimately we have to find the paths to exist together. I hear your struggle, I feel your struggle…and I pray that you feel my healing hugs that I send to you. As that child, we do not know any better than to dream of those picture perfect ideals. Allow God to work within you to drive you past this burden you feel. Accept that we have to work with both versions of self, to build the today we can live with. Warmest love to you!!

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    1. Thank you with all my heart, my dearest friend! I’m learning to create something beautiful, something helpful out of the sadness of my memories. After all, that’s what they are, that’s what they shall remain: a part of my past. If writing them, if giving them a voice would bring peace of heart, healing, or even help for someone struggling with a similar situation, then it worth the tears drops 🙂 God bless you, my dear Sharon, for being a real support through everything!

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      1. I totally agree…if our pain can help someone else then that helps with the healing even more! Its been such a priviledge so far to be there for you…just as you have been there for me!! We live parallel lives after all

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