This is chapter 16 from my memoir “Bits And Pieces”.
I’m in the bathroom corner crouched like a scared monkey between the toilet and the bathtub. Nooooo….this can’t be good. Should I be here? Do people actually crouch, quiver, and hide when they’re feeling this awful inside?
And are they rocking and crying while they are crouching? No—no,no,no,no this isn’t fitting. This picture doesn’t mesh with what I view normal people doing on a daily basis. It’s so God-damned dark and ominous here where I live inside myself; dark and lonely as hell. Nothing but me—but not me, and a repulsive place to reside. I’m not what the mirror says I am.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
I hear the knocking, but continue to ignore the pleas to open the door. Fuck this shit—I’m too paralyzed to move and I just want to be invisible right now.
Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.
That incessant fucking knocking! SHUT THE FUCK UP BEFORE I RIP A FUCKING HOLE IN THE DOOR AND DRAG YOU THROUGH IT!!!!!
“WHAT!” I chokingly scream through my tears.
“Just talk to the doctor. He wants you to talk to him for just a minute so he can tell you something.”
“Tell him to go to hell. I’m not talking to ANY doctor and that includes HIM.”
There’s nothing wrong with me. I stay icy still and hear the mumbling outside of the door. She’s telling them what I’m doing in here. I know she is. She’s telling them I’ve completely lost every microscopic scrap of sanity I had left.
Crawling to the sink I turn on the faucet and splash the initial tepid water onto my face and let it trickle down the front of my clothes.
Stay on knees.
Now the water is frigid, my clothes are soaked and I look even more disheveled than before. Turning the water off I take a deep breath and for the first time, and am aware that I have become nothing but a nightmarish zombie, in an eternal trance. The frigid water was just enough to give me that last semblance of reality.
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