by Alboba
Insanity is a slow process that breaks you down like debris. You know what happens when you behave like a condescending princess? You have no friends. People faded in and out of my life. There were only a few people who endured me, getting a glimpse of the true person that I was. There was an uneasiness of interacting with me. Calm moments suddenly turn. I was always at war, fighting people relentlessly over stupid bullshit. “We didn’t get it done on time, and there are way too many features to implement, so what have you even been doing?” “I didn’t get any tasks, so what do you want from me?!” My illness constantly demanded attention. The truth is, I desired nothing more than an honest connection. I blinked, returning to the mirror. This time I saw just a child looking back at me, eyes swollen from the tears, scared and vulnerable. It broke me to see myself like that so often. Something within me always tried to overcompensate for the feelings of unworthiness. “We will be a king. You can do it all on your own. You don’t need anyone. We will become God in this lifetime. To hell with all of them.” Voices snapped at each other violently as I squirmed on the floor like a worm. I had mistakenly assumed that the worst of my life was behind me. I had mistakenly assumed that, starting university, all the bad would fade. Life would finally be good. Did I not prepare it to be perfect? My own flat, a scholarship even. Far away from my parents. Far away from the past. I gave interviews where I played the role of a professional adult. My name was attached to a big company. Sometimes I could see people getting jealous. But there I was again, sitting on the floor, crying. Abandoned. Cursed. “You deserve to live in pain,” rampaged through my head. I prayed. I begged God. “Please, God, send me a friend. I just need a friend.” I believed there was no one to call. That I had nobody to talk to. I lay awake at night in my bed, the palms of my hands pressed against each other, my fingers firmly conjoined in prayer. Often, I begged for my death into the darkness for hours. I cried and screamed and beat my pillow with my fists, banging against the walls. I started stuffing my fists into my mouth, biting my hands, my arms. “I want to die” scribbled in the corners of every schoolbook. How long had I been living like this? How much longer could I take it? Every muscle in my face pulled down around the corners of my mouth, my eyes until they stiffened and hurt. On my knees, begging until time and space unlaced. The evening sun had started rolling down. At some point, I got up. “I will do whatever it takes to get me out of this. I will do anything.” University was supposed to be my new start. But old ghosts kept haunting me. I couldn’t fathom what I was missing, either. I met a group of cool people, and they took me under their wing. We formed a group, and we had inside jokes. The very first week of university, we ditched classes and took a trip to Hamburg. After solitary confinement in my childhood room, I took to the world like an amusement park. I felt the whole spectrum of emotions, and I didn’t hold back on any of them. I loved the city lights at night. We took the cruises, subway surfed the trains. The two Russian girls were confident and cool, and the guys were kind and protected us. And I wish I had paid more attention to their ways. But that is the thing with being sick. I lived in my own head, far away from other people. Blinded, I was unable to see that I had made friends.
© Alboba 2023-09-01