Thinking was too futile for Sophie Coleman. Her mind was always racing ahead, too difficult to catch up with. It played tricks on her making her believe she'd finally caught up, maybe even one step ahead, so she'd feel comfortable letting people in and once they got in, just on that inner wall of her mind, it would start its race again ,forcing the people out, daring her to continue the never ending race. She was truly suffering. Her suffering- which was a lifelong sentence- went unnoticed by those who claimed to care for her most, because simply-she thought- no one really cared. She often felt suffocated, she couldn't breathe, and she would sweat enormously due to her continually racing mind, this would entail the beginning of one of her episodes, followed mostly by panic attacks, tantrums or blackouts. The pain of her mental illness was too much to bear, even more than that of any physical harm- something she also had a lot of experience with. She wanted it to stop, everything, because she couldn't go on with the race anymore. She couldn't go on with something she knew was a losing game.
***
"Such an intriguing story you tell, and with great narration I might add. Is this one of your novels you're working on?" Dr. Claremont asked. He sat in a black leather chair right next to the door of his office, there's a coffee table right in front of him, separating him from the matching couch that I sat in. I had my legs up on the coffee table, as per usual.
"You know Doctor, I have a weird connection to this story that I can't really explain, but I am considering making this my novel." I told him as I removed my feet from the table and instead sat criss-crossed on the couch.
"You never go through with your novels though, can you tell me why?" He asked leaning forward.
"Doc, don't tell me you don't know my meds aren't working? I've seen some new ones in your drawer and I know Missy Gellar isn't on anti-psychotics" I placed my legs on the table once more.
"Very perceptive, and I'm not at liberty to say what Missy is on. I can't discuss other patients" Dr. Claremont got up and pulled the new meds out of his drawer, right where I'd seen them earlier. "I expect a complete story this time, and we can continue on our next session. And do me a favor and tell Missy to come right in." I took the meds and walked towards the door, "Always at your service Doc"
YOU ARE READING
Borderline
Non-FictionThe pain of her mental illness was too much to bear, even more than that of any physical harm- something she also had a lot of experience with. She wanted it to stop, everything, because she couldn't go on with the race anymore. She couldn't go on w...
