literature

My Chemical Story

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CesiousRain's avatar
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Literature Text

Reading other peoples' stories of how My Chem has saved their lives have inspired me to write my own.

So, my story may not be as tragic as others. I, for one, think that I really overreact to stuff and need to stop making such a big deal out of everything. People have gone through worse than I have. So much worse than I. But, when depression keeps a strong hold on you; it's hard to think of all the good.

My depression started when I was young, actually. Yes, it usually starts when you're a teen, but really, becoming a teenager just made it worse.

I seemed so happy. I remember all those happy times, happy, beautiful memories of my family and spending time with them. When it all stopped is very hazy for me. Though, I must say, that my parents' divorce was some sort of trigger. I hate to blame them, but the memories prove my theory.

I remember it. It's like a dream. Christmas Eve, we were standing at the door of our beautiful house in Alaska. I remember Daddy standing in the hallway, and my sister, mother and I were all packed and ready to leave. Mom told me that we were just visiting my grandma, for… a month, or so.

"Why can't Daddy come with, Mama?" I was only eight years old. What was Christmas, without my Daddy?

"Daddy has to work. We'll be back." Lies. Lies. LIES.

I remember being on the plane. I remember feeling bad for leaving Daddy behind. He'd have to spend Christmas alone… That wasn't right.

Months later, I came to my Mom in a bought of confusion.

"Mama, shouldn't we go home soon? Daddy must be lonely."

"Honey… Sit down…" I did. "We aren't going back home, honey. We're never going back."

My heart was ripped out of my chest. Almost in the most literal term, but not quite. I cried so long and so hard. My little sister couldn't understand why. How could she? She was only past two years old. But why wasn't she sad? Didn't she see what Mama had done?

My depression began, then. School was hard, because I was different, I was quiet, I was kind to anyone who approached me. I wasn't mean or spiteful like the 'jocks' and preppy girls: I was hurt and confused. I hated being the center of attention for fear of people just noticing that I existed. I knew they would judge me, even though they never knew me. I knew that if they ever saw my soul, they'd hurt me too. I also remember the cruel names: emo, idiot, retard, shy girl that nobody likes…  And I was only in the third grade.

I thought I was sad then, but no, it wasn't even the beginning of my pain. The worst was when I was actually becoming someone: someone who was relatively liked by most of my classmates, someone who was funny and cheerful on the outside. Suddenly, Mom decided to change it all again. We had to move to a completely different state, all because of her new boyfriend's job. I hated her. I hated him. How could they do this to me again? So many scars on my heart, by then, I was hard as a rock. When we moved, no one could touch my soul. I never showed my real self. I hid behind books and homework while my classmates joked and laughed and romped and poked fun at me.

7th grade. I found my best friend: Haley Decoteau. I also rediscovered my friendship with my old best friend, Jerrin Vondall. There was a brief… relationship, between him and I that I wish I could do over, or stop from happening. We were young, stupid, and had no idea what we were committing to. So when he decided it wasn't worth it, my world shattered again. I'll never understand why it was so devastating, but the damage has been done and is over.

I started cutting that summer. It wasn't pretty. It wasn't encouraged by my friends, but was never shunned by them either. They also had problems, and had been cutting, too. Well, not Jerrin, but Haley and another friend of mine named Andrea.

When does My Chem come in? Every once in a while. They'd pop up every now and then, begging for my attention with songs that spoke to my heart, but I was so caught up in my sorrows that I never paid much attention to music. At least, in middle school I didn't.

When I was young, I loved music. My Daddy loved music, too, which is probably how I came across MCR. Daddy was never into the 'new' popular music. He liked old school, soul-touching music that he could sing along with with all his heart in the car. Of course, I'd be in the back seat, singing along.

Years after the divorce, a song came on the radio.

"When I was… a young boy… my father… took me into the city…"

My head snapped to attention. I knew that song. What was it? Why did it make me want to cry again?

"Mama, what song is this?"

"Um… Welcome to the Black Parade, by this My Chemical Romance."

"I know this song."

Though I never truly figured out that they also wrote my other favorite song, Teenagers, until much later, and discovered that they were the genius saviors I'd always hoped for. I'd given up on God forever ago; to this date, I'm not sure when my belief stopped. Maybe it had never been. I remember reading those bible stories, shortened into a version that 9 year olds could read. I never thought of them as true stories; just silly, impossibilities that were only what they were: stories. Nothing more.

My love for My Chemical Romance began that very summer, after 7th grade. My cousin, Alex, whom I very much admired like an older brother, told me about the song, Teenagers.

"Look it up!"

"Why? It seems weird."

"Just watch the video, dude."

"Fine."

I remember gawking at the music video, finding it a little strange and just… out there.
"What the heck?" I laughed. "Are those cheerleaders wearing gas masks?"

"Isn't it awesome?"

"Um, sure. But hey… I've heard this song before. I remember it, though I'm not sure where from."

"It's kinda old, but not really. Trust me, they're cool."

I found more songs from The Black Parade and downloaded them all from LimeWire, because I wasn't sure whether they were worth it or not yet. I remember finding Famous Last Words, Helena, and This is How I Disappear. Now, I find it amusing about how my 'obsession' came to be.

The songs never encouraged me to cut, or be unhappy. They lifted my spirits and gave me courage to continue pushing my way through the hard times. Though I continued to cut, it was never because of a song or how they dressed. Heck, I never had a good look at any of the band members until late in 8th grade. Right on my 8th grade graduation, my mom saw the scars.

She didn't react very well.

I'm in therapy now, because my mother thinks I have problems. Although, now, I am very happy. The worst of my 8th grade and 9th grade trauma is over for now, and I somehow survived it. Of course, I had help from MCR and my best friends along the way.

I'm hoping to make my life better. It's getting better by each day, but sometimes, I find it difficult to carry on. I just pull through it though, remembering the songs Cemetery Drive and Famous Last Words.

I am not afraid to keep on living, anymore. I'm not afraid to walk this world alone anymore, cause I never will truly be alone.
Other people were writing it, so I felt comfortable enough to share my story.

EDIT - - -

Ohwow! I'd never thought that so many people would read and comment on this. Thanks so much for the support and love. <3

EDIT - - -

This is my most viewed deviation, at 92 views. :3 Thanks so much you guys. Spread the love ~
© 2011 - 2024 CesiousRain
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JokerAndPirouette's avatar
I love that you wrote this down. Thanks for being so strong!