Rough Draft: Telling a story to a friend

I distinctly remember staring at myself in the mirror. I stared down my own blue eyes with such an intent it almost felt like I had the power to break the mirror. Not that the mirror was the problem, necessarily; My real problem was with my reflection inside of the mirror, with the person who looked so much like me. The person looking back at me with greasy dark hair, tired eyes, and despair in their bones. As much as I knew I wanted to shower at that exact moment and wash away the sadness, I also wanted to remember what it felt like to be myself in this exact moment. Not the person i usually was, the person I actually seemed to be. Once I was showered, I probably went out with my friends, where we all did some elaborate group meeting organized by me. I probably spent the whole time smiling, elated, giving speeches and making jokes, enjoying the feeling of importance awarded tome by the people I admired most. But the sadness still crept in, because none of these people knew who I truly was, maybe they wouldn't care if they did- or worse yet- maybe they wouldn't like me. I felt trapped. Every day continued on like this, until eventually I was pulled out of that void. I couldn't tell you who pulled me out- if it was me, my best friend, my therapist. Realistically, it was everything. I don't remember getting better exactly, but I remember the exact moment I knew I would be okay. I spent my seventeenth birthday alone for a few hours in Laguna Beach. As I sat looking at the waves, I somehow knew everything would be alright. I had never felt peace like that before. Then, I slowly started to return to my normal self- or an even better version of my old self. Now, I am just grateful to be alive and to know that I am strong. Every day I have the fortune of waking up I face the day with optimism and kindness. The world is a good place if you choose to see it that way. Life is filled with choices, and I made mine. it was the right choice.