Wandering Minds

By , boxborough, MA
When we are kids, our minds wander.

The stinging in my feet was almost unbearable. The muddy water seeped into the finely cut slices with even the smallest movement. I could hear the slightest bit of Bon Jovi’s “You Give Love a Bad Name” in the background. It was nice to have something so familiar, something I was raised on. We lifted the logs, avoiding the rotten, bug infested bottoms, and placed them one after another. I guess that Julia, Tessa, and I were quite the dreamers at the time. To us that little log bridge was our way to Wonderland. We clicked our dads old CD’s into our beat up, light pink, boom box and pressed play. Sun snuck through the trees, creating small spotlights in our wooded stage. Julia on air guitar with a shovel, Tessa lip singing into a stick, and me smashing tree stumps for drums. Our own world had been created by simple rock songs; and in our world, we were rockstars. The only things that could break up our concerts was the call from the back porch, and the debate of who got the first bowl of mac and cheese.

When we are teenagers our minds wander too much.

My depression had been getting worse by the week, along with the anxiety that the pills never seemed to help. Stress from school, pressure from friends, relief from red. Never good enough, always a disappointment at everything, at least that’s how most of us feel right? Death became a common thought. I could feel my heart pump twice with every sharp breath in. The shaking began, along with the burning eyes and streams of water. I became a wreck. Once again my mind resorted to the silver angles hidden in my drawers, nothing seemed more welcoming at the time. I craved the quick tug, the crimson lines, so once again I gave in. Bubbles of my favorite liquid grew on my skin, soon connecting like newly made rivers of my own Wonderland. The stinging in my wrists, hips, ribs, and ankles had become beyond bearable with a familiar sound in the background. “Hello” by Evanescence was a song that I was now growing up to, along with my friendly pieces of metal. They were sort of like people, some tall and thin, some thick and fat, all different shapes and shades, but never perfect. They gave me so much more than any person ever could. They gave me control. For that moment I was relieved, all of my pain in one place at one time. The smell or iron filled the constantly chilled air, delighting my senses. The only thing that could end my perfectly messed up Wonderland was the call for dinner, some gauze, and the search for a new long sleeve.

When we are young adults our minds seem to be clearing up wandering questions.

Melanie, Courtney, Morgan, Adrienne, Cali, and I were home alone. I couldn't hear myself think over the blasting of “Let’s Dance” by Hannah Montanna. It was like we were kids again, swinging our fluffy boas around like the only thing that mattered was having fun. Cali turned around with pink frosting on her lip, then licked it off to create a new mustache. Melanie was painting my toes purple, which is our favorite color. Courtney was trying to make spongebob mac and cheese but she was incapable of boiling water. Morgan was finding the movie “Sleepover” on netflix, one of our all time favorites since 4th grade. Adrienne switched up the music to something she called more “scandalous”. Watching movies, laughing at stupid things, and snapping random pictures seemed to bring me back to my original Wonderland. In Wonderland, life isn’t out to get me, razors aren't my best friends, and my favorite smell was my parents cooking barbeque in the summer.

I am now permanently in my Wonderland, but once in awhile, I cross over that little log bridge to reality, only to see what I had made myself into, and come running back to my familiar scars.

Thank god for wandering minds.

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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

readlovewrite said...
Jul. 12, 2013 at 11:35 pm
Wow! It's always nice to escape and I hope you can face your (fears?) or reality or whatever daydreams are saving you from. Good writing!
CaseyElizabeth replied...
Jul. 13, 2013 at 10:30 am
Thank you so much, writing about it really does help me get the edge off from the memories.
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