1.3 - A Light in the Darkness

Daisy rocked back on her heels, then forward, to her toes. The hallways of Edgedale were full of bodies and noise, but as Daisy locked eyes on the poster, she felt the presence of God. This, she thought, was perfect.

*

1.2 - Bodies

School was going all right thus far, Alexa decided. Her morning classes were about what she expected. Lunch was better than she thought it would be as she sat at a table with Frances to the right of her and Logan to the left of her with Miriam across from all of them. It was perfect.

Now, though, she felt as though she’d run out of luck. She hated gym class. She never saw the point of doing physical type things under duress. She liked working out because she liked having a strong body. She didn’t work out to look model thin or anything like that. She thought that was ridiculous. Her body wasn’t model thin material nor did she want it to be. She liked it just the way it was.

1.1 - Ignoring the Triangle

Last class for the day. Miriam sighed as she trudged into the classroom, sitting down in the back seat, letting her notebook and pencils settle haphazardly on the desk. She didn’t want to sit in the front; she wanted to sit where she could see who was going to be in this class with her.

She knew Alexa was; they’d compared schedules and were delighted to see that they shared four classes this semester. If she included lunch, she and Alexa spent most of the day together and Miriam was just fine with that.

A few other students walked in, interrupting Miriam’s thoughts. She nodded her head at them and they said ‘hi’ back. They settled into seats, chatting with each other.

Thoughts on Suicide Awareness Day

I'm no stranger to suicide.

I'm not going to tell you that one call to a hotline will solve everything, that you'll magically wake up full of joy and verve and purpose. I am 26 (almost 27) and I've struggled with depression, anxiety, and bipolar depression since I was in my early teens (and probably before that, but I've done a good job of blocking out my childhood).

The nature of my illness, something I've talked to Mage about many times, is that I forget what works. I set up support systems, make lists of Good Things, go to a counselor, go to a doctor, get on meds -- and then when I'm feeling good, I destroy all that. And yet, every time I am shocked to find myself at the bottom again, in the spaces of suicidal ideation, of anxiety attacks and midnight sobbing,  of feeling hopeless and worthless and empty. When I am there that is all my world consists of. There is no hope, no chance of escape. I think: Come on, self. You were happy and functioning and excited less than a month ago! But I cannot remember what that felt like. Until I start taking care of myself again, utilizing those resources, getting better. Then I am amazed at what lengths my mind has gone to try and kill me. I am shocked at the delusions and the desperation.

Depression and mental illnesses are different for everyone. Growing up, a close family member repeatedly attempted suicide. Struggling with mental illness, several misdiagnoses, and a world that isn't always the safest or softest place to land, he was hospitalized and eventually got help and got stable. Working to maintain that help and stability is something we have in common, though his illnesses differ in some very particular ways from mine.

0.0 - Meeting Frances

The first impression Alexa had of Frances was that of a fiercely determined boy, cornered by three other boys in a shadowy hallway in the school. She had taken a shortcut to class and normally wouldn’t be in that area at all. Yet, there she was and as she took stock of the situation, her lips pressed into a thin line.

She’d seen Frances around school. He was tall, thin, with an aristocratic air that surrounded him, much like the lime scented cologne he wore every day. His eyes were a gunmetal grey and his hair was the exact shade of apricot. He walked with the grace of a drunken cat and she was reminded of Captain Jack Sparrow more than once with his languid air and his not so steady movements. She thought he was attractive. She had always been a sucker for a sharp dresser. He often wore crisp dress shirts to school, tucked into skinny jeans that emphasized his long legs. 

1.0 - The First Day of School

Music blared throughout the room. Frances winced and scrambled for the remote to the stereo system. ‘Fuck!’ he groaned as he turned off the stereo. He sat up in bed and rubbed his hands over his face. First day of school. He had been up half the night before, talking to Alexa on the phone. He smiled, thinking of her outrage at his joking suggestion to pick her up in the convertible. Alexa wasn’t one for flaunting wealth around and she preferred to be picked up in his old Volvo.

Frances got out of bed, padding to the bathroom just to the right. He slept in the nude so it was just a matter of him tinkering with the temperature of the water to get the shower going how he liked it. After a moment, he stepped in, grunting as the water sprayed onto his face. Hurrah for school.