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I slammed my computer shut, grabbed my sweater and slid some shoes onto my feet. I had to get out; go for a walk---do something to clear my head. It all got to be just too much for me.
“Keep calm.” I always say to myself. “Keep calm and carry on.” But I just can’t anymore.
It kills me; it really does just tear me up inside not being able to talk to anyone. There is not one person in the world that I can unload on. Everything just stirs in my head, and gets worse and worse. No one can possibly imagine how frustrating it is to feel like there is not one other person on the planet who can listen; not one person to confide in. It is so isolating; so depressing. It really has consumed me.
“What have I had to put up with, even in the past year?” I thought. “Insomnia, eating disorders, depression…God! I just don’t know how to cope. I feel like there is this huge hole inside of me that I can’t fill. I just don’t know how to deal with things; even everyday things. So often I just want to hide. All I want is to disappear.”
It just can’t be explained: the feeling of depression. Every second of every day is spent wondering ‘what is this all for? Why am I even trying?’ There is this overwhelming feeling of helplessness, anxiety and confusion. Every move that I make, I wonder if I will ever find happiness. These thoughts continued to rage in my mind: “Will I ever find happiness?” I couldn’t answer it. “I don’t know anymore. I’m not sure that I believe I am capable of happiness.”
I began to walk faster. People walking past me were just faces in the dark. That’s a thing about the isolation: the only person who I ever dealt with was myself. It is hard to talk to others; it is hard for others to talk to me. But oh, God! I can remember a time when that wasn’t so hard. A few years ago in fact.
Let me see…that was a time when none of this had really even started. I actually had friends then. There was this one girl who had known me…gosh, since I was 7 years old. We were good friends the entire time too; much like sisters actually. Anyway, one time I can remember, we were just relaxing on my couch, and she turns to me and says, “I’m thinking about getting bangs. What do you think?” I hastily replied, “No no no! You don’t need bangs! Bangs are for people with big foreheads and they need to cover it up. That’s why I have bangs.” We laughed about that for a while, but she was still so obstinate. “No! I think I’d like to have bangs. It’s a change, you know?” It’s funny now, to think about how frivolous our concerns were back then; how we could get in a debate about bangs and foreheads, but we always laughed in the end. I haven’t laughed in a while.
So often I look back at different times in my life and I long to be there again. It is so hard for me to think ‘Where did I take a wrong turn?’ I really couldn’t peg it on any one moment in time, which is sad and even more distressing. I mean, if I could point out that one mistake, at least I would have an idea of how to make things get better.
I was still pacing steadily on my walk. I kept hoping that at some point I would have an epiphany. I did that a lot: go out on walks and just hope that some how, I could make sense of something, but it never worked.
I stopped for a minute. “What am I thinking about?” I asked myself. I did that a lot too. Going out for a walk let my mind wander, but I tried my best to stop and focus for a bit so that I would remember why I went for a walk in the first place. “What am I thinking about? Exhaustion. That is it. I am so tired: tired of trying to sort my life out; tired of working when I can’t foresee any purpose; tired of waiting for an epiphany; tired of being isolated.”
That was a really hard place to be. I began to walk even faster still. I could feel the cold biting at my nose. The chaos of the flashing city lights and the abundance of passers by added to the confusion in my mind.
“This is hell.” I thought. “This truly is the worse possible situation that I could think of. I am so unhappy; it could not be conveyed. I am so frustrated, confused, lonely. I have no identity; no self; no sense of joy. There is nothing to me, nothing to my life. This is hell.”
I once more increased my speed. Flickering street lights! Honking traffic! People crying, screaming, laughing! These people didn’t even have a face anymore! Everything was a blur: a dark blur, with no hope of escape, no chance of any meaning. Crashing! Chatter! Flashes! Freezing cold!


“I am in hell!”

I fell down on my knees and prayed.

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