“Depression and Anxiety Comes With Being…”- Jane
“What I May Have Missed”
Fiction. Based on a True Nerf Battle Casualty.
by Suzanna T.
This journal entry is inspired by true events. Some of the characters, names, businesses, incidents, and certain locations and events have been fictionalized for dramatic purposes. Any similarity to the name, character or history of any person is entirely coincidental and unintentional.
This must be how zombies feel. Walking around dead on the inside. And the only thing you feel is a constant, agonizing pain of a life you’re unable to live.
If I had it right, then I’d been a zombie for at least a week. My mother and I roamed the supermarket aisles looking. She intended to get all that she needed for the week. I intended to buy something that would fill the gap. She knew it too.
“I’m ya, mamma,” she reminded me. “You can tell me anything.” I knew that, and I would have. But I had no words. Only an empty, zombie-like feeling. My feet moved on their own. Sliding and dragging with no conscious effort from me.
All day I’d been putting two fingers to my temple and squeezing an imaginary trigger. I just wanted it to stop; the guilt, the doubt, the pressure of a future I may never have. I needed the voices to stop.
Once home, I decided to join the kids in a Nerf battle after they’d asked about twelve times. The first chance I got, I crept into my dad’s room and removed the pistol from its case. Easing into the bathroom I put a hand to my mouth to muffle my screams. After loading the pistol I put it to my head. I wanted to see if I had enough nerve. Biting my lip, I pulled the trigger.
The thing had jammed. I dropped to my knees immediately begging forgiveness of the God I serve. What was I thinking? What if it hadn’t jammed? What am I doing here? How could I think of ending it with my parents and my children in the next room? With dreams not yet fulfilled? With work not yet done?
I splashed water on my face and walked out of the bathroom with a fresh anointing on the life given to me. Then… it hit my skull, right above my eye. My first reaction was to hold the place of pain. Then through parted fingers, I looked around to see my eight-year-old son smiling from a hidden position behind the couch with a Nerf gun in his hand and the dart that assassinated me at my feet.
We both burst into hysterical laughter. And to think I’d almost missed a moment like this.