Section 3

I’m sitting on the end of my bed in hospital. Numb but in pain. I don’t understand anymore. Utter confusion. Dreaming of a future like a child, imagining I’ll be a vet or a teacher but seeing reality like an adult…I am just a psychiatric ward patient….I probably don’t even deserve the word ‘just’ in front of that. I’m a nothing, a no one. Three months locked away has completely detached me from the world around me. I belong nowhere and with no one. The world outside the window doesn’t feel like mine. It’s like I don’t remember what the rolling hills look like, nor the supermarket aisles or petrol stations. My ballet shoes disintegrated when my life turned into compost. Maybe new flowers will grow out of the soil but I doubt it. It feels like I’ll never feel the sun on my skin again and that my heart will never vibrate with the bass of loud music. Will I always be gone? Will I ever find me again?

4 thoughts on “Section 3

  1. This post reminds me of the sadness I felt a year ago, and I know exactly how you feel. As a sufferer of bulimia and depression, I know how it feels to hate the body you are in and to hate the you that has grown from this darkness – you feel lost in yourself and I am so sorry for your pain. You will get better and you must keep telling yourself that. I wrote a letter to my depression a while ago, and I wanted to share it with you –
    You are not a no one – you are a great someone with such a good story to tell. Don’t give up – find your peace.
    I’d love to hear back from you and see how you are doing. Peace.


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