Sometimes when I am asleep, and the wind is coming in through the window of my childhood bedroom, I can almost feel you here. For a sleepover, the way we used to do all the time. It was just our clothes then, I didn’t know what was mine or yours. It was our day then, we never left each other’s sides. It was our life then, a pact that if we made it to 40 and were still single, we’d run away together and live on the beach in Mexico. I always wake up in a sweat from those dreams now. Now I live in your phone as an unknown cell number, I live in your photos as a girl you used to know. I live in that stain I left on the carpet of your truck when my bubblegum ice cream melted. Now I’m the most hated girl. For twenty-five years in a row. If you’ve never been the last choice friend, undiagnosed depression at a very young age, artsy but filled with melancholy girl, then you’ve never been the most hated girl. But I’ve worn her skin all my life. At first it was the separate group chat with 9 memb...
December 31st, 2021: 10:15pm I convinced my parents I’d be okay to spend New Years alone. I would be okay. After all, I like being alone. It’s not that I didn’t wish I was invited to be with my friends, I just got used to not being there. And I was happy to hear the fireworks outside from my bedroom window. I’m old enough now. I don’t need to be bothered by people who don’t love me. There isn’t a version of me before this who could have said that and meant it. This year, there isn’t even a background noise of my old hurt, and I sleep soundly. January 1st, 2022: 8:00am I take my very first antidepressant. I feel nothing (obviously). I decide to take the month off of drinking to see if it works. It does. Two weeks after my first dose I wake up before my alarm and smile. I still have so much time before I have to go to work. I begin to sleep full nights. My dad tells me he finally sees the Haleigh he always knew I could be. I see her, too. April 29th, 2022: 3:00pm A doctor in Vancouver co...