The Sick And The Troubled

1 - Not Enough

Enough.

A word so simple and serene that would bring peace to most people that heard it. A word so brilliant and calming to those who got told it. It was such a reassuring word to most people who were told it...

But not to Camila.

Enough was a word so violent to her. Enough pills, Mom, I've had enough. Enough standing up Camila, you're too weak. Enough of throwing yourself a pity party for being sick.

Camila just wanted to be enough. As simple as that. As plain as that. Such a word was far out of her reach yet she still wanted to desperately cling to the hope that one day she'd be enough. Maybe enough was in her reach.

Camila let out a hushed sigh escape from her nostrils in relief as she finally was able to remove her mask. She was now completely on her own, able to relax without fear or judgement or doctors surrounding her and watching her every move. She was lucky that she was stable enough to not have the familiar feeling of an IV in her arm. She hated IVs, the way they pierced into her skin with such a pain so dull yet so sharp it burned her skin.

She grabbed her headphones as she plugged them into her phone with a small smile glistening on her lips. With a tap of a button, The Arctic Monkeys began to play in her ears. The sweet chords of a vibrant and edgy guitar played with her eardrums as she began to hum along to the song. She gently swayed her foot in the air to match the beat and she closed her eyes. For once in a very long time, she felt relaxed. She felt okay.

She didn't feel the familiar pit of dark, deep dread clawing at her gut. She didn't feel her throat threatening to close up on itself like when she was anxious. She didn't feel the tension in her back or the chronic pain in her hips. She didn't feel like she were to wither away for once in her life.

She didn't feel bad by distracting herself from reality. By imagining herself, healthy and able-bodied for the first time ever at a concert. For once, even though it may be in her imagination, she felt alive. She gently began to sing along with the lyrics and slowly increased the volume.

The next thing she knew, she was snapped out of her imagination by a knock at the door. Her eyes snapped to reality as they opened and she weakly sat up. A small frown was now placed on her lips as she realized human interaction meant she had to wear her mask.

With shaky hands, she put on her masks and adjusted the mask's straps to fit snugly around her face. She breathed into the mask and felt her warm breath heat up the mask. She watched the wooden door open to reveal a short blonde woman.

"Hi, my name is Ally and I'm officially assigned to be your nurse. Camila, right?" the petite woman beamed as she tilted her head.

Camila simply nodded, baffled as how excited and full of life the blonde appeared to be. How could she be so happy in such a place?

The nurse grabbed a few bottles of pills and began to open them up one by one. She double checked the labels to make sure it were the right medicine — it was. A variety of white and blue pills were now given to Camila as well as a glass of water. She had the lovely situation where she was not only sick — but mentally ill as well.

She winced as the coating of the pills stuck to her throat as she quickly swallowed them down. She swallowed each pill, one by one like clockwork. She did this every day just to get by. She was jealous that most people in this world didn't need to do so.