For The Sake Of Those Who Can Relate (Part Two)
For The Sake Of Those Who Can Relate (Part Two) anxiety stories
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joeyvale
joeyvale For all those who understand
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
A week had passed again and one of his friends had come over to attempt to help once again. As the door opened to the clean flat with a sense of freshness he was struck with awe. Looking at the empty shell that was originally his closest friend he stammered a few words, "h-hows it going bud" From the floor, he looked up with a smile saying, "better...

For The Sake Of Those Who Can Relate (Part Two)

A week had passed again and one of his friends had come over to attempt to help once again. As the door opened to the clean flat with a sense of freshness he was struck with awe.

Looking at the empty shell that was originally his closest friend he stammered a few words, "h-hows it going bud" From the floor, he looked up with a smile saying, "better...

" Scarcely his friend hesitant to effect what seemed to be an improved state of being invited him over to his place. It was the first time in six months he had left his apartment.

Since the love of his life had left his friends and family had brought him food although he rarely ate.

His water and electricity bill was paid by the majority of his friends, some believed it was only encouraging his state of being, the rest feared what would happen if they left him to rot.

Arriving at his friend's place he was met with welcoming yet shocked faces. In attempts to keep a sense of normal, they all greeted him like they used to.

He was offered food but still couldn't bring himself to eat and they all tried to respect his wishes.

The night moved on and he remained in a calm responding state smiling occasionally with a quiet laugh. It began to become very late time seem to pass quicker than usual.

His friend thought it best for him to stay the night and a part of him wanted to, but in an instant, a wave flushed over him and he insisted on going.

Slightly disappointed his friend began to coax him into staying refusing to give up, but eventually, he found himself on his way home.

Walking through the city his loneliness began to close in as his pace quickened. walking turned into jogging and jogging turned into running.

Agitated in confusion of this growing pain he pushed his way through crowds unaware of his surroundings.

The voices around him began to double the noises increased like all his senses were heightened.

Finally finding his door trying to steady his hand for just amount to put the keys in the door he burst through. shutting the door and falling to the ground he gasped choking for air.

His lungs felt crushed by the feeling in his heart unable to expand with the air he longed for.

The pounding in his heart spread to his head and hands until the throbbing reached every nerve in his body.

As he lay there on the floor his thoughts faded to black and his will to live was insufficient to keep him awake.

The next day as dawn broke his eyes opened with that same feeling of being pulled from the water while drowning. His body was weak with just a twitch of movement.

After hours of pain surging through his nerves, he fell all over the flat trying to get up, repeatedly falling and giving up.

finally making it to the closet he pulled a cable from the box tying a knot tight as he could.

Tying the cable to the skylight from a ladder expecting to feel dread, pain, sadness, anything as he wrapped the cable restricted around his neck and he felt nothing.

Whatever left of his will to live evaporated as the rain poured down on to the skylight.

With moment wasted he jumped from the ladder the cable stretched and as soon as it met its full length and pulled his kneck the skylight shattered leaving him falling to the ground.

with a concussive blow to his head as he the wood flooring the glass and rain poured onto him.

Through blurred eyes as his head rushed with aching pain, he glared across the room to see the calendar.

It was Monday and for a moment he stared then started laughing, It was the first time he had truly been amused in months.

He recalled how much he hated Mondays saying they were the worst part of the week. Sitting there laughing he thought himself mental as if he had completely lost his mind.

He reasoned with himself it was the blow to his head, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed.

lying there as the rain poured in he closed his eyes and passed out in what he believed to be a false sense of peace, but accepted any peace false or not.

With a smile on his face, he fell asleep his heart rate was calm, his breathing steadied, and no major injuries were sustained.

As he woke the feeling of drowning had disappeared the pain was distant beside the head wound from the fall.

Drenched in water from the rain and little amounts of blood the sun stung his eyes as he rose to his feet.

Pulling off his clothes he threw them into the dryer and rested his head against the wall.

After cleaning himself off in the shower he made himself breakfast finished eating put on some clothes and a coat and left the flat.

Walking through the city he reached for his phone only to find it broke in the fall laughing he remarked, "must be my luck.

" As he found himself going to the doctor after visiting one of his favorite coffee shops It stunned him.

Yet the sadness lingered over him he was able to slowly recover what left he had of his life. In disbelief, he chalked up to his head wound but there was a feeling he couldn't shake.

Too distracted by overthinking he realized that he felt something, even if he didn't know what it was he felt something. What seemingly was an empty shell was more.

In a state of shock, he sat on a bench flooding with memory, his mind became unresponsive to his surrounding as he slowly regained what it meant to live.

Regretting the night before tears reflected the light from the sun glow, but still in his mind, he knew he would never be cured.

Yet although the pain that plagued his mind would continue he had to try and fight for what he wanted.

Running from the bench with his head still in pain he thought of everything he wanted to say and who he wanted to say it to.

On the doorstep of his lover's house, his heart began to hurt again quaking sending waves of pain through his body.

breathing heavily he hit the door as he fell to the ground loud enough for her to hear. Overwhelmed by just the sight of him she pulled him in talking him down the best she could.

After twenty minutes his heartbeat slowed enough to speak and quietly he said to her, "When I told you I can't be fixed I wasn't lying...

" In disappointment, she began to turn away but he took what air he had left in his lungs after gasping for it and yelled, "listen to me okay!

" shocked and frightened she turned back and said, "I'm sorry... go ahead.

" continuing he spoke, " depression isn't something you can just take a remedy for and cure, you can't work it away because it sticks with you through all you do.

It takes away your reason, it steals from you what you hold dear and weakens the strongest emotions.

Everything you hold dear becomes harder to remember harder to see, but I promise you I'll try I'll do anything if it means I can run my hands through your hair...

I'll do anything just to see your face as I wake up and hold you as I fall asleep.

" taking a pause to recapture the breath it took just to speak the truth he looked at her eyes once again clouded with tears and ran his hand along her face. Showing his smile not faked or planne

d her heart quaked and her breathing quickened uncontrollably. Finally, without any more moments spent in anticipation, he put his head against hers with his eyes closed and said, "I'll do anythi

ng even if it means that I have to find a way to cure the incurable, to accept who I am, and to love myself the way you love me." With a smile stretching across her face laughing in relief she pu

lled him into her arms and told him, "you're not alone you never have been..." Helping him up from the ground they walked through the city planning a new life heading toward their friend's apartm

ent. As they knocked on the door the two smiled and laughed awaiting the reaction to come, and as the door opened they stood in silence. With a smile across their face, their friends immediately

knew and pulled them into the apartment with excitement. In attempts to apologize, he picks up a glass and looks at the people he loves most. Finishing his drink he puts the glass down and says,

"The worst part of it all is the hopelessness the unbearable feeling that nothing has true meaning anymore. Everything becomes fake doing the same things or trying new things, working, having som

eone to love that loves you, and having a family. It becomes less important with every pressure to move forward, in fact, the best way to describe depression is pressure. The feeling of weight on

your heart, the feeling that every move is forced, the feeling that no matter what you do it won't get better... but it does and now I believe it gets better not because I have to, but because I

want to. Life changes things happen that we can't control; to us, to the people around us, and to the people around them. They say acceptance is the first step into making things better, and the

pain tells you that nothing will ever get better. So you have to fight... You have to fight to feel what so many before you have fought for and so many after us will fight for the same. We fight

for love, we fight for the basic need to feel something, we fight each other, but most of all we fight ourselves."

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