What is wrong with me? What is wrong with me? What is wrong with me?
You chant as you stand huddled in your shower in the corner. You feel a pressure in your chest that hinders your breathing as tears roll down your cheeks.
You question your sanity…because why else would the simplest of things trigger you as such. Everthing is fine, really. But not really. Like you’re in a dream, and you’re seeing yourself becoming a shell of what you are.
Every little thing is a big effort on your part. Like combing out your tangled hair. Or going down the stairs to check your mail.
But you know something is wrong with you: you’re broken beyond repair. How do you fix that?
And then there’s a knock on the door. You pat yourself dry and step out the bathroom door. You tease your little brother on the way to your room as you smile at your mom on the stairs. You’re huddled in a corner on your bed as you try to sleep. That one thought still lingers in your mind: ‘What is wrong with me?’ Its a broken record that plays as you drift off to sleep.