Unpredictable Corners This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

By
   "How are you doing today, Matthew?" my psychiatrist said to me. I replied with my usual answer, "Pretty good." I always say this, even though I knew I wanted to say that I am afraid. I do not know what I am afraid of, but I just am. I have been longing to tell him for a long time now, but I just cannot seem to find the right moment. I just hope that he will ask if I am afraid of anything.

When lying in bed, I think a lot. One night I figured out what was making me afraid: I was afraid of what was going to happen next. I did not know what I was going to see when I turned a corner. I did not know what was going to happen from one minute to the next. All this stuff scared me. I used to like surprise, but not anymore. I like to know what is going to happen beforehand, but that is impossible.

I think all of this started a while ago. Something happened to me that affected my whole life. It changed me. Since then I have not been the same person, and people see that. I used to go all over the place with my friends, but now I just go places with them occasionally. I used to be carefree and happy, but now I am worried and stressed all the time, and sad a lot. This event changed me, but I do not know if it was for the best, or for the worst.

"Matthew, do you ever have trouble concentrating?" my doctor asked. I usually reply with, "Sometimes, but I try to keep busy," but I know I have trouble. I will sit in classrooms listening, and then all of a sudden I go into a daze. This does not happen all the time, but when I am bored and have nothing to do, I think. Sometimes I think of what I would be doing right then and there if the event did not occur. I think about what I would be doing on the weekends if the event never happened. I wonder if what I know now might have changed what happened then, but I do not like to think about that very often.

"Matthew, do you feel guilty about what happened?" I always reply with the same answer for this one. I say, "Not at all. I know that what happened was not my fault, nor could I have prevented it." When I say this, I wish I did not, but I just cannot seem to say my true feelings. I want to say that I do feel I might have been able to prevent it. I want to say that I feel that part of it was my fault. I want to say that if I knew then what I know now, things might be different, but I do not because ... I do not know why. I have always been able to express myself, but I guess I cannot do it for this. This event is not allowing me to express my true feelings.

I always hear people saying that people do not understand unless it happens to them. I believe that thoroughly, but then they say that, when people come up to them and say, "How are you really doing?" it makes you feel that they might understand. I do not agree with this at all. I hate it when people ask me how I am doing because I do not like to tell them that I am really not doing well. I do not want people to see my real new self. I also know that if I tell them, they will not understand and think that I am going to extremes, but if they had to go through this they would not think that at all.

"Matthew, do you feel that you are still the same person you were before?" This was a new question. I was unsure how to answer this one, but once again, I replied with the wrong answer. I said, "Of course I still think that I am the same person. I feel that nothing much about me has changed." Of course, I know that this is the furthest thing from the truth. I could not believe I was saying this. He was my psychiatrist, who was trying to help me, and I was not letting him.

This annoyed me a lot. I wish the event never happened. I do, because it has changed me greatly. I would never have pushed away help before, but now I was and there was nothing I could do about it. It was almost as if the event was taking over my entire life without letting me have a fighting chance. This event seems to be a never-ending storm.

I feel that I express myself better to myself. I am the only person I can talk to about what I feel. I know I can trust myself with anything. I know I will not think that my emotions are wrong and stupid. I know that I will not criticize myself for what I do and think. I know that I will listen without telling anybody. I know that I will always be there for me, and most importantly, I can relate to what I am going through.

"Matthew, do you feel afraid about what is going to happen next?" my doctor asked. It took me a while to answer this question. This question was the one that I was hoping for. This was the one question that might change me back to my old self, if I answered it. This question seemed to hold my future. I thought of all of these things in no more then ten seconds, and I said, "I sometimes feel afraid, but I think that I am getting better than before. I used to be, but now I think that was just a phase that I was going through." I was mad at myself for saying this. I knew that I wanted to answer the question, and speak all my feelings and emotions, but something told me that I was not completely wrong. I figured out that maybe I was not ready to divulge my inner thoughts and emotions. I thought that maybe it just was not my time to share, and maybe I would during my next visit. 1


This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback