Lofty Dreams | Teen Ink

Lofty Dreams

October 25, 2016
By Anonymous

Today I dreamt of heights.


As I pondered upon the implications of consistent current account deficits in economics class, I fantasized standing tall on the rooftop of a building, any building. I imagined being closer to the clouds, closer to what lies beyond, closer to somewhere where nothing but chirps of birds can be heard and somewhere where no soul speaks ill. From atop I peeked below just to get a glimpse of what lies beneath- the clouds seemed darker and it always seemed to be raining. I turned around and walked over to the other side of the building and everything seemed quieter. In my daydream, I stood there for a while. I befriended the heights.

Come next day it was time to go to school. I was fortunate enough to be able to afford to travel in the school bus. It was my time to dream again. Time is relentlessness in its ability to slip. There once was a time where I used to dream of conquering academic success, going to brand name colleges, making my eternally disappointed parents proud. I still do sometimes, but that dream is one that creeps a fear within me. My mind and my pragmatic self tells me I will fail no matter what so what’s the point of trying. I let my motivation slip and shatter into minuscule pieces. As I bend to pick it up and fix it, the ground beneath me shatters and I transcend into a pitch dark abyss. I cannot swim and therefore I sink. I have never been one to face my fears and an atmosphere similar to that of an abyss tells me my doom is nearing. I hear voices but see no faces as I close my eyes shut and succumb to my fear. “You are a failure, forget about college”, one says. I gasp at the stark and unapologetic tone. My mother’s voice becomes more audible and this time she attempts to scream, “We have wasted all our money on you! When other parents talk about their children with pride, we remain silent!”. I flinch and attempt to cover my ears but her words escape my force and I’m overcome by a pain in my chest. Another voice creeps in. It belongs to a man. “You are absolutely useless; you are failing half your classes”. My ears begin to bleed as I push my finger as hard as I can to block out the voices. “I need to speak to your parent regarding your grades”, “You might not graduate”, “You are a disgrace”, “You are a piece of s***”, “You are stupid”, “You are not good enough”. And then it happened. I lost my battle. The darkness consumed me and I embraced it. The words asphyxiated me and I choked to the point of breathlessness. I lost the battle against the will to survive or to dream. My days consisted of going to school, coming back, falling asleep and praying I wouldn’t wake up again.


However, I still dream. I dream of heights. I dreamt of them on my way to school, I dreamt of them on my way home.


I was back where I wanted to be. A gush of excitement rushed through me. I had been dreaming of these heights for quite some time now. If I could convince myself to fly like the birds that chirped melodiously, I would escape. Escape into the peace that lies beyond my grasp.


The author's comments:

This piece is to some extent a representation of my inner turmoil and my attempts to fight my thoughts. To some it may seem dramatic but nothing written in this piece is fictional whatsoever. Just thought writing down my fragmented thoughts could help place them together. As i wrote this piece, I kept in mind the memory of a 14 year old girl who plummeted to her death when i was 15 and to me the idea of depression seemed selfish and absurd back then. Two years later as i reflect and find myself to be a victim of it, it doesn't seem so strange after all. In fact, its like being in a toxic relationship. Sometimes i find solace and comfort in it and sometimes i just want to end everything. I don't hope to influence people's actions negatively through this piece but i do hope that i'm able to provide some insight into what goes on in the mind of someone who is, for the lack of better term, suicidal and i hope this article conveys to the masses how serious the effect of a mental illness can be. Just like any other disease, prevention is cure and I hope and pray that if anything, the one thing people should take away from this article is that sometimes, words are daggers and to be wise is to use them sparingly. 


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