Therapy » m.c

[6] Histeria

"Of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most."

-Ozzy Osbourne

.....

Michael

Feeling lonely and being alone are two, very different perceptions that are often misconstrued. The commonly used expression to "feel lonely in a crowded room." is one that very few fully encompass, because being alone is not based solely on the physical state of solitude, but on the withdrawn emptiness inside of you.

Yeah, that was deep, I know. I really felt it there, didn't you?

If you're lost, I basically described how I'm feeling, but don't worry, I'm just as lost as you are.

After I told Eliza about Josie, all the interactions between us trickled to a halt. She stopped talking to me, noticing me, it even came to the point where I made my myself believe she forgot about me altogether. She didn't even have the balls to tell me that she didn't want to hang out with me any more.

I got the message the day after, when I sped to our special spot only to find it empty. I have been counting the days -desperate, I know- and the last time I checked, it was about one week and two days ago.

I don't know what I did wrong. Maybe I was too forward? Maybe I thought too much of our friendship and that admission was a step too far. How was I supposed to explain something that I couldn't even understand myself?

There's no words to describe how excruciating it is to sit a few feet away from Eliza, only to find that I can't talk to her. I mean I can, but I'm afraid of what she might say. Countless times have I been asked 'What are you afraid of?', to what I may answer a simple 'nothing.' But that couldn't be farther from the truth. What's really holding me back is a fear that I'm not too keen on telling the world- Fear of rejection.

Deep down I wonder if that's really the case or if it is in fact something deeper, a chapter in my life that has inked it's permanence, harboring in the darkest corners of my mind. I've only experienced being left behind rather than being the one to leave and it's something I would never wish upon to another, because even if the memory manages to fade into the back of your mind, the disheartening pain remains, lurking for that one time you feel happy again to strike. It hurt enough to see my father walk out the door -and out of my life- and up until now, I have succeeded on erasing that memory from my brain, but this time packed the same sour punch as it did a year ago.

I don't know anymore. My emotions should never had made it's way into this whole fucked up equation, but somehow, they found a way in and had no plans of leaving.

Ever since, my anxiety levels have gone through the roof. For the smallest things, I get a little more nervous. My heart races just a tad bit faster and not in the romantic way, but in that it is beating faster than its normal rate. My palms sweat just a little more than they used to and I always feel like I'm gasping for air, like I'm being pulled down a dark well as the sense of drowning takes over. I try hard, I really do, but I just can't get the words out and I don't know what else there is to do.

Is there anything else I can do to fix something I never knew needed fixing?

Once again, my eyes trace the outline of the pale, hospital-like walls reeking of bleach and the doctor's office, boxing in what everyone refers to as the rec room. Although I tried hard to fight off the urge to resist, I eventually caved in and my eyes had stuck its claim on Eliza. For the many glances I have stolen of her, I should be shackled up and sent to jail for such crimes.

But oddly enough, it was as if she wanted me to. I'm pretty sure, she noticed that I took into account the change she had gone through. Inevitably pinning it down to be that her sleepy blue, almost cloudy grey, eyes now hid behind a cloud of black makeup, encircling them many times around. Even then, I'm still grasping onto the hope that she's still that Eliza who would stick around after sessions, blow smoke in my face every chance she got, and kept the strangest guy around the most company he has had in years. And if it means I'll have to wait until I get my friend back, then waiting is what I shall do.