Scary stories

Delayed

For most of my life, I've struggled with chronic depression. Before I finally went into treatment, I spent a lot of my time self-harming, laying in bed for days, and thinking about suicide. When you go that long without experiencing joy, or pain, or anything but numbness and exhaustion, you start to fantasize about dying. It became a mantra of sorts for me: "I wish I were dead". I whispered it to myself constantly. It was the first thing I said each morning, and the last thing I said before I went to sleep.

At the age of 20, I finally started to receive treatment that worked. I was put on a steady dose of antidepressants, and for the first time since I was a child I felt like the fog had been lifted from my mind. It's like I was all dust and grime inside my skull and someone cleaned me out. I was excited to wake up in the mornings, the air smelled crisper, and food tasted better. I left all of my old misery behind me, and I had no urge to look back. A few months ago, my luck started to take a turn for the worse. There was a fire in my apartment caused by a freak accident with my toaster. Later that week, I slipped in my friend's bathroom and hit my head on the tub, resulting in a concussion. I nearly drowned on a family vacation, I was almost stabbed in a mugging...near-death experiences are following me everywhere. The worst of it happened a few days ago. I was driving home from work when an 18-wheeler came out of nowhere and crashed into me. The doctors said I was lucky to be alive, but I heard them talking today about my high risk of worsening conditions. I feel weak and faded; I'm afraid to close my eyes in case they won't open again.

Every time I said that I wanted to die, I put that out into the universe. I must have said it and thought it hundreds of times, if not thousands. I think something must have been listening all those years, and it's decided that it's finally time to grant my wish.