Narrative Essay: The Falling Ceases

The Falling Ceases: Narrative Essay I get stuck in my own mind, I call it a prisoner to my own conscious. The story of my depression and anxiety began in the summer after 5th grade and I started noticing things, things I never noticed before about my surroundings, but I’m not going to talk about all of that though. I am going to tell you a different, more recent, and positive story, a story about change within myself. Beep. Beep. Beep. “Moriah, wake up it’s time for school,” I hear my grandma say next to me in the bed. My auntie’s California king bed makes her sound so far and yet so close. For a while I lay there, not wanting to obstruct my sleep but then I resolve that it’s time to get out of the bed so I thrust myself up and out of the bed reluctantly. I sleepily go and get ready, heading downstairs afterward each morning. My body takes me to school, come home, and do homework without my permission like any other day. On the weekend I would go to my “other” home in Romulus and sometimes go to my boyfriend’s house. He makes me the happiest I’ve ever been at those times and gives me confidence when I have none. Even my mind remains

Not black enough. Not white enough. Hideous. Medusa. Depression and anxiety hit me like gunshots 24/7. My mind races and the negative thoughts go into a war with my good ones, it becomes a downright massacre as bad as the massacre of Jewish people during World War 2. The negative thoughts won and so the incompetence, insecurities, and everything else come hurtling back into my mind and I become despondent. When at my worse, phantom arms clench my wrists, my chest, my heart, and my soul then more of them wrap themselves around my neck and consume me. In front of others, I would smile and act like I didn’t have a mental illness, and so no one noticed, but I didn’t care, I wanted it that way. My heart throbs, it throbs so badly that it might burst and paint my surroundings red. “Everything is okay,” I would say. No, it’s