“Just a lot going on in my mind,” I commented, swirling my spoon around in the mashed potatoes.
“By all means, share your thoughts.”
I wanted to talk to her about it. I wanted to open up and show her the messiness of my brain, but it didn’t work that way. Even if I talked about it, my thoughts would leave my head jumbled and flustered. They wouldn’t make sense to her because they hardly made sense to me.
All I knew was that I was tired. Each day felt more like a burden, and I was being weighed down.
She clasped her hands together and leaned toward me. “Slow it down, Landon. Your brain is running on overdrive, so you must slow it down. Go slow. Take your time to process through your feelings.”
I wished it were that easy. I wished depression was like a car, and I could simply push the brakes to slow down my mind whenever I needed a rest. I wished I could shut off the engineand be still for a small amount of time. But depression, for me, was the complete opposite of that. When my mind started driving, it hit the accelerator and took off at full speed toward a brick wall.
Any day now, I was going to crash.
Any day now, I was going to fall completely apart.
I gave Maria a sloppy grin. “It’s OK. I’m OK.”
She narrowed her eyes and placed a hand on top of mine. “You’re not OK, and that’s fine. But don’t dig a hole so deep that you can’t pull yourself out of it. I know that feeling. I’ve been living with depression for a very long time. I know how your mind can swallow you whole.”
I raised a shocked eyebrow. There was no way Maria had depression. She was the happiest woman I’d ever crossed paths with. She was just like her granddaughter—the definition of joy.
“You can’t be...” I started.
She smiled, and dammit, her grin looked like Shay’s, and dammit, dammit, dammit, I missed Shay’s smile the most. And her laugh. And her eyes. And the way she took small nibbles of candy.
“I’ve been working my whole life to make peace with my depression. It was a long battle of finding the right medication for my system and talking to the right people. I still see my therapist once a week. There seems to be this idea that if you have depression, you don’t deserve certain things in this world, and Landon Scott, that is a lie. You deserve more. More than your thoughts that lie to you. More than your doubts that you keep feeding yourself. More than your fears that you’ll never have a normal life. You deserve more.”
I lowered my head and fiddled with my fingers. “I’m scared,” I confessed.
“What’s your biggest fear?”
“Being alone. Not being able to let people in because of the mess that is my brain.”
“What about my granddaughter? You let her in. I know you did. I’d never seen you happier than when you two were getting close.”
I nodded. “Shay’s amazing. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But I don’t deserve her. I honestly wish I could be more for her, but I can’t. I’m just me.”
“And that is enough,” Maria whispered, squeezing my hand.
That’s not what your daughter told me.
“Any woman would be lucky to be loved by a heart like yours—including my granddaughter,” Maria said. “You don’t see what a gift you are to this world, to the people around you. But we want you in our lives. We need you in our lives. So please, stop running. Place your feet on the ground and make peace with your demons. Stop fighting them and hold them. You’re not broken; you’re just complex. And the most beautiful things in the world have the most complex heartbeats.”
I didn’t reply because I hadn’t a clue what to say.
I was sad.
The kind of sad I didn’t think I could get over.
“Do me a favor, son?” Maria asked me.
“Yeah?”
“Promise me one thing. Promise me that when you are feeling at your lowest, like you have nothing left to give... like your mind is slipping and swallowing you whole... that you’ll reach out to someone. It doesn’t have to be me, but just someone you trust wholeheartedly. Don’t drown in your head, Landon. Reach out. Because this world? It needs you. We need you. I need you here. So don’t you dare think that you’re not important. Don’t you dare let those thoughts drown you. Promise me this.”
I brushed my hand against my nose and sniffled as I nodded. “I promise.”
“Again, please,” she begged, her eyes piercing through me.