Hope, katie [booksvooks TXT] 📗

Author’s note

Dear readers, first of all, thank you for reading my book (or at least starting it..!) I have always loved writing, but this is the first book I’ve dared to sit down and put onto paper.
As an ex-depressive, I wanted to write a book to show people that it is possible to come through it, no matter how unlikely it may seem.
thank you to my wonderful family, which out whom I would still be drowning at sea.
For others, I just hope you enjoy this uplifting book! Thanks again J


Chapter 1
Grey tights. Black trousers. Brown skirt. The entire wardrobe was now turned out onto her floor but everything looked ugly on: she felt like a blind woman from the 18th century trying to pick out a fashionable, or at least even passable, outfit.
“breakfast!” she heard her mother yelling, but she was still in her once sexy but now baggy pants and lacy bra which showed huge gaps of empty space as soon as she leant over- which she tried not to do. Exhausted and with tears in her eyes, she pulled on a pair of plain school trousers over a pair of leggings, and made sure that the sleeves on the grey tee-shirt she decided on would coved her angry red forearms.
Just another day.
Why was it that she felt so tried? So bleak? She couldn’t deny the perfection of her life: an adoring mother and kind, patient father. Her four brothers spoiled her, taking her out with their friends and teasing her playfully. Glancing around her room, she noted the thick carpet, stuffed wardrobes and smiling pictures. Walking over to the window seat crafted into the age-old cob walls she wistfully stared out across acres of countryside in which her horses were munching on the lush fresh grass. One of the dogs, molly the spaniel, was snuffling the cats belly with her nose as he rolled over to the affections. She could her the clatter of her one younger brother descending the stairs, eager for his morning cereal. Everywhere she looked around her, the air was full of life and energy; trees blossoming in the spring morning sunshine, birds tweeting their songs on the roof, butterflies dancing their way across the pond.
But none of the energy could penetrate her fortress of fatigue and misery. She felt as though she were being buried alive in a deep tunnel, too far away from civilization for anyone to hear her screams. Sinking to the floor, she grasped her dressing table as though it were some kind of wooden lifeboat that could haul her from her watery fate, but one by one her fingers let go and she was drowning in the blue of her carpet.
Cursing herself, she knew that she didn’t have time for self-pity, she needed to join her family for breakfast and then hurry James into walking to school or they would both be late.

Chapter 2
Walking into the common room is always one of the hardest moments for her. Although her friends greet her happily, she imagines the stunning, fashionable people all around her are sniggering at her outfit. Deep inside, she knew that the clothes she wore were no different to the rest of them, but they looked awful on her, and so perfect on them. Fighting back the tears that threatened to further mess up her repellent face, she hides in the corner, hardly speaking, then follows behind the others as they head to lessons. At lunch times, she finds she has no energy for socialising, and it is impossible for her to laugh along with their predictable jokes. She couldn’t care for the mundane chatter about shopping, and who’s party it is at the weekend, and who fancies who. Is their no more to life?

Back at home now, she sits in her room, salty fluid making tracks down her velvety cheeks. How long has she been like this? She thinks back to the days when she was always forefront in her group of friends, chatting with anyone, everyone. Her school reports spoke wonders and she was known as one of the prettiest most likeable girls at school. Staring into the mirror now, she can hardly believe that the hollow cheeked, sunken-eyed girl staring back at her is the same one. She was ugly and hated herself. More crimson lines made their way across her body as she tried to let her anguish flow away with the pain.

Chapter 3
She was in the waiting room, glancing nervously at the door. She could still leave, make a run for it, forget about ever thinking it was a good idea to come here. And yet a nagging voice told her in her head that if she did then she had failed even at this, she was a coward. Suddenly a rosy-cheeked lady was calling her name and motioning towards her room and it looked like her chances of escape had vanished. Self-consciously she heaved herself up and dragged her body into the over-clean room of her GP.
“so what’s the matter love?”
But her voice had gone and she felt ridiculous. People were supposed to come here for physical problems, ones that a doctor could examine and fix. her problems could not be fixed. This was pointless.
With downcast eyes she told the doctor that maybe she shouldn’t be here actually; he couldn’t help her. Seeing the doctor smile kindly through her blurry, exhausted eyes, she looked up and could not stop the tear from escaping down her face. I would escape too If I had the chance, she thought.
“I.. I feel bad. All the time, for no reason” she paused, glancing upward for a fraction of a second to see the woman take on a concerned look. “my life is perfect” she continued, “but I… I don’t want it”. she couldn’t explain the despair that gnawed at her belly every second of the day and ache with longing to go to sleep and never wake up. She could not explain how the world had lost its colour and seemed so bleak and unwelcoming.
But the doctor understood.
“Well” she said kindly “you may not believe that it’s a physical problem, but it is, and don’t worry because you are not alone- the same feelings are felt by millions of people around the world”. she doubted that. No one could feel the emotions she had.
After a while, the doctor had given her a prescription and instructions to come back in a month to check up.

Chapter 4
All that was nearly a year ago, which I can hardly believe. I had had no hope for the pills I was stuck on- convinced that my messed up head could not be fixed by medicine. I did, however, dutifully take them. I remember that they had made me feel sick at first, and have stomach cramps, but I had soon adapted to them. After some serious deliberating, I told my parents what was going on, and my mother had cried and hugged me and told me that her mother had suffered in the same way. I had been bewildered, so it was normal (ish). No longer feeling like a freak, I began to eat more energising foods and go for walks in the fresh air.
Where before their had only been darkness and drowning, I remember my first glimpse of a boat in the distance. It was still very far away, and unlikely to spot me, but instinctively I knew that if I tried hard enough, I would be able to reach it someday.
The day that I fist saw that metaphysical saviour boat, I was simply lying outside in the sun. above me the tree swayed in the gentle breeze and when I sat up I could see its reflection in the pond.
Suddenly, it was as though the breeze had managed to weather its way through my hard fortress of darkness and whistled through the gap it had made. The air was cold when it hit me properly, as I had felt so numb for such a long time, but any sensation where before there was none was welcome. I had gasped, feeling the gentle touch, then a small smile had crept across my face- something that had not happened (authentically) for months. Lying back on my towel, I had fixed that boat into the forefront of my thoughts and swam towards it.

Chapter 5
Never am I suggesting that, like a light bulb being switched on, my full senses were restored automatically. It was a long had swim, facing many sharks and despairs as the boat seemed to be moving away from me.
School was just as tough, as it was still so difficult to face people, make polite conversation, and giggle over television shows. That winter, I snuggled on the sofa in the warmth of my family’s company, savouring the scent from the log fire and laughing, crying, smiling at the movies we watched.
What a family. Through it all, they helped, offering me a life vest, or a buoyancy aid when I threatened to sink, and encouraging me across the storm seas.
That winter, secluded for the main part from my friends and school, and in the mist of mince pies and mulled wine, my feeling began to return. Slowly, for sure, but I could feel their gradual growth in my chest, growing and blooming, like the spring which by now had come around again.
This spring was different; I walked the dogs through torrential rain, marvelled at the unveiling of the orange daffodils, studied apple blossom as it flourished in the sunshine. But above all, I felt the world echo within me, my battlements of despair were now a derelict castle on a windy hillside.

However, once close school friends had drifted away, many consumed by their own pettiness and shallowness. A few remained, which I will never be able to repay. But I knew that I had outgrown the small country sixth-form, with its rules and gossiping students. I was in my boat now, warm and dry and comfortable, but that did not mean that I was not seasick. Storms howled outside and the boat rocked; we were still far from land. Navigating the seas is difficult, especially if you have no experience of it, but it was that or give up- and I had not come this far to allow this boat to sink to the seabed.

Chapter 6
It all happened so fast, the idea, the planning, the anxiety, but within a month I was a passenger in my mothers car, gripping a suitcase and praying for the best. I was transferring to another school. A college, really. Large, like a university, situated far into the countryside surrounded by villages. I was to live on my own for a while until the rest of the family could join me.

Chapter 7
What a way I have come! College is difficult, but in a way which makes me work hard and appreciate it. The people are so friendly, I have started to make new friends- and have even been invited to parties at which their was laughter and fun. I found myself laughing and telling jokes, flirting and appreciating the way I looked.

On my free days, I like to walk up the local hillside, through a barley field and sit on an old stone wall, where I can see for miles around. At once, I feel queen of the world from up here and yet an insignificant dot in this magnificent countryside.

Today, I have brought