|All I want is a little of the good life ~Three Days Grace|
UndyingUndying:Undying by WordOfChen
How many days do you spend now, putting me down?
The coffin call for a dead man waiting around
"He's just an underground laughing stock, never to rise"
But on the seventh day I'm coming back; these are my ties!
The kind of promise that you made with the devil inside
You try to take away my soul, but I take it in stride
I ain't a doll that is crushed by the weight of his pride
I am the real and the raw of the things you denied!
You're playing snake games, selling oil, pass it off strong
You're just a pot head, weed dead, smoking your bong.
You try to look away, play and hide; apathy's best
But I'm the kind of bad boy you don't put to the test!
-Chen Yuan Wen, 7th February 2013
How are you?"Hey! How are you?"How are you? by thechosenonee1
Frozen to the core,
Ready to cry some more,
Life is just rushed...
In so much pain,
Life has no gain,
Not good enough,
Life is just so rough,
No one could care less,
Sorry for complaining so much,
Sorry for being selfish and such,
"I'm fine, thanks for asking! And how are you?"
Pain demands to be felt. Pain is felt in many ways, including mentally, hearing certain phrases, and through abandonment. Most people think that pain is just physical. I have depression, anxiety, and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) because of pain. I have been through so much that I don’t know what to think about when I think of pain. It clouds my mind, making myself unable to think straight. Pain is different on how it wants to show itself to the world.
Mental pain is just that. Pain in the mind. Nobody really knows how to explain it, but I will do my best to try. Sure, I get headaches where I just want to cry, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I am talking about the pain I felt when my heart is broken. I have felt that pain so many times, it’s uncanny.
One time, I was dating this guy named David. He cheated on me; Twice. I still gave him chances even though he didn’t deserve them. I was so young, only thirteen, when I first started dating him. I didn’t think anyone liked me so I stayed with him even though he wasn’t right for me. I knew that. He’s been convicted of felonies, such as stealing his grandmother’s credit card and spending around $600 on him and his friends. Why had I stayed with him? After we broke up for the umpteenth time, I made it clear I wasn’t going back to him. He kept giving me guilt trips saying that if I weren’t to come back, he would commit suicide. I was the best thing that ever happened to him. I couldn’t stand him anymore. I told him if that’s what he’s going to do, then do it. I’m not having him in my life anymore. He made me rethink my perspective on love. I didn’t know what love was and it was killing me.
Another time that I had mental pain was when my friend had almost died. Brittany’s kidneys had failed, and her lungs filled up with water. She couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t tell myself what to do because I had no idea. She needed a kidney transplant as soon as possible. I would help her, but I have kidney problems of my own, so I couldn’t help her. I didn’t know what to do. She was my sister, and I couldn’t help her. You may or may not know how much it hurts to see someone you have known for practically your whole life in so much pain. She had tubes sticking out of her body in every possible direction, blood going in, and urine coming out. The first time I saw her was on my way to work. I got her a stuffed animal as she had gotten me when I was in the hospital. This pain was unbearable.
Pain is also hearing certain phrases. I remember almost every day I see my friends at bowling, that they use the same expression over and over again. That expression is “I will kill myself if that happened.” I find this phrase so offensive. It never bothered me until after February 2012. I had gone through a lot that year, including numerous suicide attempts. I never thought I would be here to this day.
Around March 8th, 2012, I was attending a two-week partial hospitalization which meant I would go to the hospital during school hours and attend therapy groups for others with depression and severe anxiety. I hated it; it didn’t help me gain control of my mind. A week into my second time into partial, two days before I was supposed to have a meeting with my dad and mom about what is going on in my head, I attempted suicide. At 3:32pm on March 8th, 2012, I took exactly twelve 6000mg Tylenol tablets with absolutely no water. When I swallowed the last one, I immediately regretted my decision, and called 9-1-1. About eight minutes later, I heard a knock at the door. It was a female police officer. She asked me what I had done, and it was so hard talking knowing that I could possibly be dying. Although at the time I was scared, I knew I didn’t take enough to do much damage. About what seemed like an eternity, an ambulance arrived. There were kids outside that knew me, and they watched in horror as I walked and hopped up on the stretcher. The paramedics had gathered all my personal information, such as my name, address, parent name, phone number, etc. They then called my mother. She had just gotten home from work by the time I was halfway to the hospital. She told the paramedic that she would be right behind us. I really didn’t like this paramedic. She kept asking me why I wanted to kill myself. Did that really matter at this point? I was bawling so hard that I couldn’t breathe. They decided to give me a cannula to help me breathe. The paramedic told me it was because I was hyperventilating from the crying. I just felt like I was dying. We eventually made it to Strong Memorial Hospital, where I had been many times before, just not for this reason? I had gone through eight days in the mental institution, lying to my treatment team because I wanted to get out of there. Now that I am eighteen, I will be sent to the adult institution where all the crack addicts and rapists are. I couldn’t handle that. Not at all. That would just make me feel like I was crazy. I would feel like I was crazy to want to commit suicide. Suicide isn’t crazy. It’s an act of bravery and helplessness.
Finally, the last type of pain is that of abandonment. I have felt abandoned so many times and it hurts so badly. This type of pain is sometimes hard to come by, because a lot of people don’t have much abandonment, unless you count death as one. Pain can be interpreted by abandonment because nothing hurts more than a loved one or friend never talking to you or coming to see you.
When I was about 13 or 14, I had to have a catheter to drain my kidneys. My mother was there holding my hand while I lay on the X-Ray table waiting for my urologist, Dr. Hulbert. He was the only one to be able to manage to get the catheter in because I had so many surgeries when I was a baby that my urinary tract is screwed up. It hurt like hell, and I started crying so hard. My dad had come to see me halfway through the procedure. He sat in a chair across the room and just calmly said, “Calm down, everything’s fine,” But it wasn’t. I was screaming in pain. After they finished putting the catheter in, my dad got up, came to the table where I was laying, and told me he had to go shopping. Who does that?! Their only daughter and youngest child is in the hospital crying and screaming and you just get up and leave. He didn’t even kiss me goodbye. He just left.
Another time when I was around one year old, my dad was having an open affair with another woman. Her name was Evette. This woman had convinced my dad that my mom was sleeping around and that I wasn’t his child. He didn’t bring me over his house at all until I was at least three years old. He brought my other brother, Andrew, though. Evette had made my dad almost get his brother to take the blood test to prove that I wasn’t his child. That is just plain wrong. I will never forget this, nor will I forget all the other times my father has abandoned me.
In conclusion, pain comes in many different forms. It varies from person to person, but for me, I defined pain as mental, hearing phrases, and abandonment. These were the top examples in my life where I had experienced pain more than I thought I would have.
This was my first English project in College. Please give feedback.