It's all in your head

By Milliard Baliza

The world was sparkling like a fourteen-carat rock. The air smelled of sun-warmed bark and apple buds raring to blossom and get on with life. Overhead, a thousand baby leaves danced in the breeze. Fields spread outward from the bedroom window in which I lay, the newly turned soil rich and black, still wet from the rain. The rich colors of rainbow spreading over the horizon, fading but nonetheless beautiful, quiet birds in a circled flight in the glorious sunlight.

A day made of diamonds. However, some things are really way too good to be true. Soon, a looming black cloud threatened to shadow my mind upon realizing the reality I was in. I was too afraid to even make a step and got caught in the abyss of suffering in which I am struggling to get accustomed to.

“…It’s all in your head.”

I slowly opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling of a gloomy room on an unusually gloomy day. I faced the side of my bed as if looking for a more comfortable spot and hugged my pillow that my mom gave me during my 16th birthday a few months ago…

“…I don’t know, it doesn’t seem that bad.”

“…It’s all in your head.”

Those words… I remembered that a lot of things had happened during that night. It was not something that you would expect from a typical birthday celebration of a 16-year-old. There was no huge party, there’s just me and my mom and some of my closest friends. There were no glittering decorations and some fancy dresses, but the food was delectable. I’m quite contented with this setup; everything was great and all seemed fine, but actually it was not. From time to time, I was fixing myself so no one would notice how I sniffled quietly the whole time, how the tears were threatening to spill from my eyes, and how I smiled as if nothing’s wrong. I never cried. I never cried no matter how painful it may be. It might be because I’m used to this feeling or I’m just scared; scared of others to see my vulnerable part and how weak I am, especially if that “others” is no one but myself.

“…Maybe you’re just imagining things.”

“…Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure everything’s going to be fine.”

“…It’s all in your head.”

And there it goes again, those lines… those vexatious words that keep on lingering in my mind as if it were some leaves carelessly floating on a river, you’ll never know when and where it will appear. The once clear skies were replaced by a cold grey day, rain started to pour nonstop. Angry flash of lightning appeared; discordant thunder broke out. Cold and dark, I heard it again…

“…What, really? Others have it worse, you know?”

“…You are just being overly sensitive to small stuffs!”

“…It’s all in your head.”

I just sighed and got up to fix my bed. It’s already 8 in the morning and I still have to prepare for our breakfast. I am just living in a small house with my mom. I never once got a glimpse of my dad ever since; I never knew if he was still alive, or where he lives, and why he left us; in which I guess I have an idea as to why. “Hey, darling, I want to have one of these pretty and sparkling dolls that I can see on the TV. Can I have one of these? Please, please, please, pretty please?” my mom asked while watching the ads on her favorite channel. My mom has a disease that’s so-called the “Peter Pan Syndrome”. I’ve been taking care of her ever since I can remember.

“…What, really? Others have it worse, you know?”

“…Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure everything’s going to be fine.”

“…I don’t know, it doesn’t seem that bad.”

“…Why do you keep saying things like these, you’re just ruining the mood.”

“…Maybe you’re just imagining things.”

“…You are just being overly sensitive to small stuff!”

“…It’s all in your head.”

These thoughts are now all over. They keep on repeating over and over again as if a siren that’s living inside my head. I can’t get rid of it and it’s making my life an everyday hell. I opened my eyes to a world of shadows and misery. Those shadows pulled me, tripped me up, and knocked me to the ground. I’m starting to lose my mind as I brush my hair with the tip of my fingers and start to pull it as hard as I can hoping that everything would be gone by then. I’ve got no one, somebody, anybody, help me, please.

“…It’s all in your head.” I gasped, not because those voices were still in there, not because of the typical incomprehensible feeling that I always felt whenever I think of those words, nor was it because of the line instead. But because this time, it’s different. It does not come from my head but from someone very familiar to me. I turned around with an abominable look. I saw my mom smiling and said;

“You look like you need some ice cream right now. Tell me, darling, what’s wrong?” while showing her worried face.

At that moment, something unfamiliar trickled down through my face, my eyes began to get blurry and my throat felt like closing up. From that moment on, I cried and cried like I never did before. I hugged my mom and told her everything that was going on until I’m too tired to even lift my eyelids up. All those times when I’m keeping all of these all by myself, I finally lessen the loads that I’ve been carrying. Maybe everything was really just in my head. I got scared of opening up to anybody because I always thought that what I’m doing is not enough and my problems were not really that bad compared to others. I created those clouds and those shadows myself. I’m the one who’s afraid to face whatever I’m going through right now.

“This time, I’ll make sure to make a step forward in this abyss of validation. Move forth no matter how painful and wearing it might be. I’ll walk through it and create my own version of a world that was sparkling like a fourteen-carat rock.”

NI JAMES RHUZZEL SASPA