Bathing Hurts | Teen Ink

Bathing Hurts

September 19, 2021
By N_Bro142 BRONZE, Bethlehem, Pennsylvania
N_Bro142 BRONZE, Bethlehem, Pennsylvania
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

I grew up reading mythology, and have always been fascinated by the River Styx. It is a mythological river said to grant immortality to those who bathe in it, although the price is agonizing and unendurable pain. I asked, “Is all the pain worth it?” Then, I read about Eve’s situation in Paradise. This prompted the question, “Was it worth it to have been burdened with the knowledge of the bad just to know the good?”

When I was 15 years old, I noticed that showers were different. Water found its way into the gaping strips of skin missing on my body, causing excruciating pain. Whenever I showered, I made sure it was quick and as painless as it could be. The worst time, though, when I used the steak knife and started slashing with no end in sight, I stepped out of the shower to be put into more despair; the crimson paper towels coated in my blood had clogged the toilet and it began to overflow. When I think back on this memory, I am reminded of Eve and how the bad, no matter how traumatic it is, is necessary for the good to prevail. Although my battle with mental illness has been a brutal one, and I am still a little stuck, one idea gets more apparent each day. Life’s truth is in neither the good nor the bad, but the spectrum in between; life itself is a single juxtaposition of birth and death, fundamentally meaningless yet attaining the only meaning we will ever know. Overcoming mental illness has shown me the complexity that resides in life, and thus, its ethereal beauty.

One complexity that consumed me was this idea that although I cannot control the situation I am in, I can control how I perceive and react to it; I’m in control of my life, and nothing else is. I began to harness my emotions to benefit and help me improve, rather than succumb to my own sabotage.  After time and time again of never being good enough, I questioned who I was being good for. Similarly, I questioned what being depressed, cutting my thighs until there was no visible skin, was doing for me. This allowed me to finally turn my life around, and start using the setbacks of life, not to hurt myself, but to make a life that was worth living. Then, I started applying this ideology to music.

I grew up to be overly cautious. Every audition, tension and emotion controlled my sound. Thus, the results did not reflect my true expertise.  It was not until this past year that I have seen the effects of my newfound confidence. Rather than constrict myself, like my previous auditions, I pumped my chest and played loud and proud. This allowed me to show my true skill and be admitted into the All-State Wind Ensemble, and later even be accepted into the All-Eastern Honors Concert Band. Keep in mind, all while maintaining a near-perfect GPA, participating in extracurriculars, and trying to survive till the next day.

So much of my life has been spent in vain. I cannot fathom how much I missed by sleeping in my bed and being scared of what I was in the eyes of society. Depression almost shaped me. In a sense, I was bathing in my own River Styx. It was the inescapable and insurmountable pain, both physical and mental, which opened my eyes to see that life is much more than just pain. Life is pain, on top of the experience of blissful happiness. Instead of just looking at individual notes on a staff, random people crossing the street, and even setbacks, I examined the melodies which intertwine everything. That pain allowed me to scour the melodies within the depths of my soul, never coming back unharmed; leaving me bloody and broken yet finally free.


The author's comments:

TW: Blood, self-harm

If you are struggling with mental health or a desire to self-harm, visit https://www.teenink.com/HealthResources for help.

 

This was assigned in my writing class last year. It was really nice to reflect on my experiences with mental illness and offer a new outlook on life. I hope those going through similar struggles can find solace in my writing.


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