My bespectacled eyes gazed at the paper before me.
Scribbles, squiggles and scrawls filled the blank, white surface. It was, in a way, enthralling. One squiggle gave birth to a myriad illusions around. I was hypnotised and felt myself be pulled into this befuddling labyrinth.
Suddenly, she snapped her fingers before my face.
"Lost are we?" She asked, chuckling as I looked at her with raised eyebrows. "This is what you created unknowingly while talking to me. When you told me about your boyfriends, breakups, and family issues you were continuously scribbling away. That's what I try and explain all who come to me. I'm trying to show you that by pulling yourself into depression you're just losing yourself. Then they're these illusions of things that may not be true and then you go on and on, pondering, thinking and mulling. And that's when the world labels you as troubled".