"I used to wanna kill myself. Came up, still wanna kill myself. My life is goin' nowhere. I want everyone to know that I don't care. I used to wanna kill myself. Came up, still wanna kill myself. My life is goin' nowhere. I want everyone to know that I don't care"
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Pain is eternal.

I've come to grips with that fact. It took me precisely seventeen years of life to understand it; to understand the in's and out's of hurt.

I can't believe I truly let it get this bad.

Sure, pain is relative. Everyone feels it, it's a common emotion. Some people let it get to them, others just keep on trucking. Then, you have people like me. Lost causes that are so far gone, they're past the point of no return.

That's what's landed me in this lovely situation.

My parents are on the verge of forcing me to go to rehab because apparently my Xanax.. habit.. has gone a little too far. Although I'm prescribed it, I tend to run out of the prescription a little sooner than I should, which, now my parental unit has taken notice.

Living in Los Angeles, California as a teenager in 2018 is pretty wild if I do say so myself. These kinds of behaviors are accepted, and no one really does or says shit about it. Unless you're rich, and your kids have a big opportunity to embarrass you and screw you out of business deals.. which happens to be my case.

Debbie and Tom Woods are two of the most influential art gallery owners in all of California—yes, the entire state—and they don't let anyone forget it. Don't get me wrong, my parents are totally cool, but they don't like when people don't know who they are.

"Evelyn, could you pass me the butter?" tom asked calmly, and I silently moved the tub over to his side of the table. tom is a thirty-nine-year-old mouse-like man. he's very quiet, but charming when he needs to be. black framed glasses sit on his face, and I can't remember a time that I've seen him without the same pair.

debbie, on the other hand, looks as if though she stepped right off the runway. if you were to look at my parents together, you'd think that the biggest nerd and most popular girl from high school hooked up and had a kid. my mother stands at around 5'8, with long auburn hair that reaches her waist and a somehow almost perfectly proportioned face.

because they are artists, (my mother being the painter and my father being the graphic designer) they're possibly the most relaxed brand of parents out there, so when they brought my Xanax addiction out into the limelight I was startled.

they've always been super easygoing and never really forced me to do anything. if I needed a mental health day to take off of school, I got it. I mean, how much more understanding could you get?

apparently, my drug abuse was crossing the imaginary lines for them.

I don't exactly know how it got so bad in the first place. I don't have any friends so there was never really an outside force like peer pressure cornering me to make any decisions, and I never felt the need to impress anyone anyways. I was prescribed the Xanax for simple anxiety, and I just kind of took it overboard when I began liking the feeling too much, I suppose.

"so, your mother and I have been talking," Tom began, and made quick eye contact with Debbie before continuing. "and we think maybe you should get some friends," he stated bluntly.

"Oh," I whispered, pretending to be offended.

"well, you know, you just tend to seclude yourself and we think that if you expanded your horizons a little more then maybe you'd find someone else you can relate to." my mother added gracefully, saving the conversation.

"you're right," I mumbled, munching on the green bean casserole that was so eloquently prepared. everything in this home is turned into art. "although, what if people aren't nice?" I joked.

"well, there are some douchebags out there." my father chuckled. I nodded in agreement.

"may I please be excused?" my parents nodded in sync, and I stood to rinse my plate off in the sink and return back to my fortress of solitude.

I shut my bedroom door behind me and turned on my fairy lights, then took a seat on my queen sized bed. I sighed out of my mouth dramatically and let my head hit my pillow.

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