Silencio Embriagador

“Sometimes home can be another person”

Durante sus 22 años de vida, Saeran nunca consideró en llamar a algún sitio su hogar. Mint eye era un santuario, lo más cercano que tenía al cielo y la idea de salvación que fue inyectada en sus venas, pero nunca su hogar.

Puede que en algún punto considerara ese sitio superior a la idea de ‘casa’ o ‘familia’, después de tanto sufrimiento que le causaron los maltratos de su madre y la pérdida de su hermano, su abandono; cualquier sitio era mejor para él que su propia cabeza… o eso pensó.

Sus manos temblaron cuando tomaste el arma que tenía entre sus manos, porque el único momento en el cual se sintió a salvo fue cuando te miró a los ojos; lo supo desde el momento en que te vio entrar al apartamento de su salvadora: tu rostro carecía de malicia, sólo alguien noble haría tanto para ayudar a un extraño sin esperar nada a cambio… alguien como Saeyoung antes de decidir que era mejor dejar morir solo a alguien tan débil como él.

En tus ojos lo veía a él, a la mitad que lo rechazó…

“¡Suéltala!” gritó, sus manos aun temblando, intentando decidir qué hacer. Tus ojos eran como los de él, los del hermano que lo protegió hasta que ya no soportó más ese martirio; ¿también lo traicionarías? ¿También esa nobleza que mostrabas sólo era para mantenerte a salvo?

“No lo hagas… tú no quieres hacer esto, no debes hacer esto” le suplicaste, pero los gritos de Saeyoung pidiéndole que no te lastimara fueron más fuertes.

“Tú no sabes qué quiero hacer”

La boca le sabía amarga, a pesar de que tus manos no dudaron ni un segundo, ni tus ojos. Pero, ¿por qué?, ¿por qué insistir tanto por alguien como él?

La voz de Saeyoung se hizo más fuerte, haciendo que tus ojos se llenaran de lágrimas y el corazón de Saeran de odio.

Sí, te parecías a él… y Saeyoung parecía saberlo; ambos tontos a más no poder, poniendo una máscara de empatía, de deseos de ayudar mientras esa ayuda los beneficiara. Ambos dejándolo solo cuando la oportunidad llegaba, sólo pensando en preservar su vida.

Pero no más, ya no lo abandonarían… él no dejaría que esa calidez se esfumara. Saeyoung lo abandonó una vez: no volvería a pasar.

“Vamos al paraíso”

Te vio caer, sangre saliendo de tu pecho, los gritos de Saeyoung cada vez más fuerte; pero eso ya no importaba, ahora su hogar estaba a su alcance, no te marcharías de su lado, ahora podría estar en paz.

Warning: Tragedy. This is a what if universe… as in what if Saeran loved her too. My english is not good for it’s not my first language, but I try, so please forgive my grammar mistakes.

“Sometimes home can be another person”

During his 22 years of life, Saeran never considered naming somewhere his home. Mint eye was a sanctuary, the nearest thing he had to the sky and the idea of salvation that was injected inside his veins, but never his home.

Maybe he considered at some point the idea of ‘house’ or ‘family’, but after so much suffering laid upon him because of his mother’s cruelty and the loss of his brother, his abandonment, anyplace was better than his own head… or so he thought.

His hands trembled when you took the gun he had between his hands, because the only time he felt safe was when he looked you in the eyes; he knew since the moment you came inside his savior’s apartment: your face lacked malice, only someone noble could manage to help a stranger without expecting something in return… someone like Saeyoung before he decided that it was better to leave someone as weak as him to rot away in loneliness.

In your eyes he saw him, the half that rejected him…

“Let it go!” he screamed, his hands still trembling, trying to decide what to do. Your eyes were like his, like the ones of the brother who protected him until he couldn’t take it any longer; would you betray him too? Was that kindness you showed only a façade to keep you safe?

“Don’t do it… you don’t want to do this. You mustn’t” you begged, but Saeyoung’s screams, asking him to not hurt you were louder.

“You don’t know what I wish to do”

His mouth tasted bitter, despite your hands never doubting, nor your eyes. But, why? Why trying so hard for someone like him?

Saeyoung’s voice got louder, making your eyes fill up with tears and Saeran’s heart with hatred.

Yes, you looked like him… and Saeyoung knew it; both so foolish, putting on an empathy façade, of desire to help but only if that help would benefit you both. Both leaving him alone when the chance strikes, only thinking about preserving your lives.

But not anymore, he wasn’t going to be abandoned again… he wasn’t going to let that warmth fade away. Saeyoung abandoned him once: not again.

“Let’s go to paradise”

He saw you falling, blood coming from your chest, Saeyoung’s screams stronger than ever; but that didn’t matter anymore, now his home was within his reach, you wouldn’t walk away from his side, he could be at ease.

and it’s fucking killing me because ???  the idea of being annoyed by people telling you that stuff is because those people honestly think that doing yoga and “looking on the bright side” will magically cure your depression, because they can’t imagine happiness not coming as easily to someone else as it does to them.  the idea isn’t that getting exercise and practicing positive thinking are useless ways to treat depression.  but that’s what i’m seeing a lot of now and i just want to say…. i got some fucking bad news, cause that is the treatment for depression.

therapists telling you to get good nutrition and exercise are not the same as your yoga-instructor aunt on facebook posting pictures of the sunrise and wondering how anyone can be depressed when the world is so wonderful!!! thats not just an anti-recovery attitude, it’s an anti-treatment attitude, and it’s unbelievably ignorant.

there’s sort of this interesting circular form to dealing with mental illness, where you start in a place of “i just need to think positively and push myself out of this ditch” and then you move to step 2, which is “depression is a real and very serious illness and it’s not my fault that i’m tired all the time, stop telling me to just “think positive” all the time.”

But then there’s step three, which is where you size up your situation and say “look, i understand how serious my illness is, and i’m no longer blaming myself for it.  And it sucks, and I don’t “deserve” this, and I didn’t bring it on myself.  But regardless of how unfair it is, the truth is that I’m the only one who can actually do anything about it.”  And so in a lot of ways, you end up with parallel ways of thinking as before, but this time you’re coming from a completely different source of understanding.  People who don’t know anything about mental illness say “depression is a choice.”  People who are fed up with being depressed and realize that wallowing in the comforting embrace of self-pity is useful to erase guilt, but ultimately won’t help them lead a better life say, “recovery is a choice.”

The first group means that if you’re depressed, you can just magically decide not to be depressed.  The second group means that depression is a crushing weight on your back determined to make your life as miserable (and as short) as possible, and that you didn’t do anything to cause it, but that ultimately you have the choice of giving up and accepting being depressed for the rest of your life, or you have the option of making an effort to improve your quality of life.  Similar statements, totally different meanings.

But I think a lot of people are sort of seduced by the comfort of giving up, and with the good intention of creating communities of understanding and non-judgement between mentally ill people, social media has unwittingly created communities of mentally ill people encouraging each other to give up.  To just accept that this is the way their lives are, and there’s no possibility of getting better.  And that’s how it’s gotten to the point of people dismissing actual mental health professionals as being no different than some ignorant person who doesn’t know the first thing about psychology and thinks an avocado smoothie will solve all your problems.

Avocado smoothie people are coming from the first perspective, that being depressed is a free choice that you can easily opt out of.  Therapists are coming from the second perspective, where mental illness is a horrible reality, but given that you’re seeing them, a provider of mental health treatment, of fucking course they’re going to give you advice on how to treat your mental illness!  Your therapist isn’t going to sit around and say “yeah man that sucks, haha look at this funny meme about how much you want to kill yourself.”  Your therapist is going to give you recommendations of activities and habits that will help you recover.  And they understand that these activities are not easy!!!  They get that!!!  The reason they’re there is to help you introduce these activities and ways of thinking into your life!!!  Otherwise they’d just hand you a pamphlet and walk out!!!

But you can’t access that kind of help - the kind where you say “getting out of the house is a real problem for me, I never have the energy to get out of bed” and your therapist says “okay let’s figure out how to break this down into small steps, we’ll set a small goal for this week, and next time we meet you can tell me if it worked out, and if it did then we can figure out what the next goal will be, and if not then we can figure out why it didn’t work and try a different approach” - if you immediately dismiss any mention of recovery as “neurotypical bullshit.”

Anyways please please please take your healthcare seriously, get treatment, and realize that giving up and normalizing your depression/anxiety/etc as something that will never ever get better (yes, even if it’s a chronic condition that you’ll never fully cure, you still need to treat it) is not okay.  Try to get good nutrition. Try to get sunshine and exercise.  Try to be social.  Making an effort to do things that will help you is not the same as thinking mental illness is a switch you can easily flip.  Getting treatment is not the same thing as pretending your mental illness doesn’t exist or isn’t serious.  On the contrary, getting treatment is taking your mental illness seriously.  I’m not saying you should never make a joke or reblog a fucking meme or anything, I’m saying don’t use social media as your mental health care provider.  Social media can be a way to vent, but venting is not the same thing as recovering.

• tapping/repeated actions/counting to calm a worrying thought or fear

• being unable to control thoughts of people you care about being injured, dying, etc., and being too scared of others’ opinions to talk about it

• hair pulling/skin picking

• having to constantly deal with people joking about having OCD or using it as a way to describe themselves when unnecessary

• no one taking you seriously (family, friends) when you actually have OCD because of people using the term so jokingly

•compulsive need to clean or keep everything “perfect”

•OCD driving you to feel motivationless, anxious, and depressed, or worse

self esteem: