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Cross legged I sat on the cold metal chair making knots on my shawl and loosening them. Tick-tock, the world was moving in a slower pace. Two rows behind me my so-called parents in the well known society were sitting ashamed of me and indifferent to their surroundings. I have never liked this hospital smell but as long as I can remember I have been inhaling it at times. The amiable smile you see around you when you have been declared as a patient is all a big lie, they are paid to smile, to assure everything’s going to be okay and that whatever they were going to do won’t hurt. Lies, lies, lies you see it all around you.
Why am I here? I have asked this myself over and over. I was normal to me and happy. What did I do wrong? How am I different? These questions have haunted me in my life and dreams.
I was the kid who spelled backwards, I was the teenager who wore her watch in the opposite way and who took swearing by her life, a little too serious. Yes, I’m a loner but what is the problem in it?
I had been honest about these to whoever asked and I guess that was the problem. If I had a chance I will tell my younger self to lie and not to open her heart to anyone. The pills for my sleep and the sessions to clear my mind of my doubts had me sleepless nights and life long struggle between anxiety and depression.
Now, I am just a number to them, they will call me soon and I’m going to do what I should have done a longer time ago, I’m going to say “I’m fine”.
23 Launches
Part of the Something Else collection
Published on March 03, 2017
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