The Therapy
- Reads 4
- Votes 2
- Parts 2
Ongoing<5 mins
Last published Wed, Mar 29, 2023
Every day, when I wake up, I have the same thought.
Will this ever end?
How long until it last?
I feel tired when I see the rising sun.
Everything feels so...empty and dull and monochrome.
Are they alive?
Am I alive?
The world just seems like it's stopped, or maybe I did.
I don't know anymore. It's almost too hard to breathe.
I can't feel myself. I feel too numb to differentiate between my mind and others.
Am I too quite or is the world is too loud?
I look in the mirror every morning and smile.
An almost too real smile that's hard for people to tell apart from the fake one. It's something I do to make myself feel a little more lively.
"Is this life?"
I ask myself in the mirror.
This doesn't seem as good on me as it looks on others.
Seems like I ordered the wrong size.
My eyes don't shine like them.
I breathe, of course, but it doesn't seem like the right thing to do. Something feels so wrong about it like it's not supposed to happen.
I have had this premonition for a long time now.
I ignore it as much as I can, but it was too axiomatic to ignore.
A part of me still want to try. It's fighting. Trying so hard for it's own life or rather mine.
And so I decided to cut some slack for it. Today will be my the last shot, my final attempt to live...Therapy.
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#288
psychiatrist
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