One year on…

I will remember this day forever in my life because this is the day I was being put in the hospital – for a day. But it changed my perspective on life and I’ll never forget how broken my heart was. I was afraid, but being alone was daunting considering how feeble I was on the bed with all the medical equipment surrounding me, releasing the beeps and boops while I became lost in thought, wondering about my fate, the life I’d lead all the while and how I’d end up dying if I did die that day. Everything was so bleak but at the same time optimism shone.

I couldn’t read and write and the diarrheas that came every few hours made me weaker. All I wanted was sleep. Ample of sleep so that I might regain strength.

But a year has passed and nothing much has changed. Except for the fact that at 23 I came to realize how colourful life is and that being out from the depression hole made me wonder why I ended up being depressed in the first place.

I oppressed myself not knowing I was the oppressor all the while.

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