Insanely Perfect

Chapter 1- The Crossing

I never thought the day would come when I want to kill myself. I was suicidal and I was scared to admit it. It's quite ironic because I'm a psychologist. Maybe I was finally infected by being around explosive mentally ill people for so long. No, I'm not talking about my patients. I'm talking about my friends, my lovers, my families and my enemies. I think after all these years, my flower of despair has bloomed perfectly in my psyche. I was definitely scared of my own reflection, I still I am.

It has been a year and it became clear that things were getting worse about five months ago. I was in the kitchen cutting vegetables while I spoke to Kyle, my boyfriend.

"Are you okay?" he said alarming with piercing eyes that made it clear something was wrong.

"Yes, I'm fine," I said this confidently everytime. Of course this was my insanity.

Kyle grabbed the table cloth and took my hand. It was blood, mine to be exact. I didn't feel it. I should have definitely felt that because if the blood is any indication, I almost sliced through my fingers.

Kyle's expression requested answers, questions I didn't have answers for. I rushed into the bathroom to escape his haunting expression. It was a mix of confusion, anger, fright, and disheartening realization that he could not help me. He had tried for months but I refused to admit that I was falling apart. This is partially why he was angry and I was too. For years I have watched my depressed patients with disorders. I was always thankful not to be on that side of the spectrum. I was sane and living an almost perfect life. Now I was searching for reason to be alive, I wasn't suicidal yet.

I finally knew why people self-harm. I thought they wanted to control their pain, but now I know it is because they feel nothing. One of my patients said this once, but I took it as "ohh my mentally ill patient discrediting their emotions". That was very inconsiderate Emma! It was painfully true. I felt nothing. Sure I felt despair, pain, sadness, hopelessness, you name it but I felt no connection to my body's sense of pain. The emotions are much different from the feelings. I know this now, because I'm one of them.

From the biological perspective of depression, it's an imbalance of chemicals in the brain. I found this so fascinating, what would cause your brain to give out like that. Like the four other perspectives of psychology, it tries to answer that question. The phenomenological, psychoanalytic, behavioral, cognitive along with the biological perspective tries to comprehend the human psyche. Unlike biology, physics and chemistry that follow definite principles, psychology is far more interesting because it does not have a precise method. For example, like in chemistry, you add a specific chemical and you expect a specific result. That's quite boring, you already know. Biology, you expect the body to work like this. Physics, you use theories and formulas that should sum up your hypothesis. In psychology there is no definite answer. Everyone is unique and you don't know how they will react to stimulus, you can only aid them in understanding the complexity of their brain.

I stood in the bathroom staring at the girl I saw. I had to embrace it, this is what I had become. I had to introduce myself to the girl who stared back. I waved and she waved back. A little confused but welcoming. I think we can become friends again. Then there was a knock on the door.

"Emma?"

"Yes... just give me a minute"

I know what this girl needs, a haircut. A new haircut for our new friendship. I have never worn short hair, but I thought a bob would be sufficient. Of course if things get worse I could cut it again, to look like a cancer patient. I would have a better excuse as to why I look like shit, and I'm shit to be around. Excuse me for being inconsiderate; I tried really hard to tame my insensitivity for years. I definitely made progress, I used to be worse.

I emerged from the bathroom. Kyle looked at me in disbelief.

"You cut your hair?"

"You like it?"

"I thought you loved your long hair."

"Yes but I needed change."

"Change? It's like you're a completely different person. I don't even know you anymore."

I thought the same thing just a second ago. I will try to know this new girl.

I turned around with the biggest smile, and a stretched arm,

"This is Emma, the girl who struggles with depression, soon to be a drug addict. Maybe even suicidal soon, she's losing a battle of insanity. Sleep deprivations has given her a lot of time to be alone with her thoughts during the night. Her sadness evaporated and then condensed to loneliness. You were there but far away. Every time I tried to cling to you, you grew distant. You all did. Everytime you guys left, my heart screamed out, don't go, don't. Loneliness would take residence once more. If I had committed suicide, you would have told friends and family, Everything was o.k. I didn't expect this. I mean she was a little different but it was fine. No kyle, it's not fucking fine. I was dying inside and you completely ignored it. You were fine with my repeated response, even though deep down you knew all was not fine. But you rather that than finding out about the problem. Cause then that would complicate things..."

By then I couldn't hold back the tears. My smile had morphed into a joker smile due to the uncontrollable sobbing. He walked over and held me in his arms. Then I started to bawl. The kind of crying you have to take two breaths between because your trying to let it all out, but your losing all oxygen. I dropped to the ground, but he wouldn't let go. This was a buildup of suffering for 7 months. I was practically an erupting volcano.

After about 15 minutes, I calmed down. Under by sobbing breath I said,

"And I'm no longer fit to be a psychologist, I'm one of them."

"One of them?" he looked more confused than before.

"My patients."

Two months later I resigned from my job, I even went in and explained. It was the most difficult thing for my existence. As I walked out of the facility, a soul sucking demon attached itself to me. It was like nothing I have ever felt before. I was finally swallowed my darkness. I watched everyone hurried to their destination. The cars drove pass and I just stood there. I felt estrange to the motionless activities. There was an unbearable feeling of 'not knowing'. Not knowing if I will heal, but currently not knowing if I'm going to kill myself or not.

I got home and assorted all the ways I thought of killing myself for the last few months. I made a list trying to figure out which was least painful. Then I started laughing because some were impossible. Eat a grenade and make Kylie's life miserable once more, because he would have to wipe my guts off his comic collection. Blow my brains out with a shot gun, I don't even have a gun. Overdoes on pills. Now that is doable. I went into the bathroom for my sleeping pills. I emptied the bottle on the counter. Then I glimpsed the girl in the mirror.

"What are you doing Emma?"

"I don't know," I said stunned.

"Go home."

"I can't."

My phone rang from the other room. I dragged myself to the coffee table where it was vibrating. I longed for this call, even if it took sometime to realize that my mother's wrong doings were difficulties that went deeper than her regret over what was at most a peccadillo. I haven't spoken to my mother for years, and I certainly wasn't going to call.

"Hello...mom"

"Let's skip the formalities for now, your dad is being released from jail."

"I thought he had a few more months."

"Yea, but he's getting release early on good behavior."

"That's great, I actually have someone I want to see when I come home."

"You're coming home?"

"Yes see you tomorrow, bye."

I hung up the phone. Well that's great. My dad is getting release from jail after he killed the man my mom had an affair with. I can't wait to see him. Well, today is Kyle's lucky day. Instead of finding a dead girlfriend in his apartment, he will find no girlfriend. Only a letter with a smiley face explaining that I'm going home before I kill myself.