I have not been able to get my sanity back, I feel like a brain-fried in hormone concoction. I am not feeling normal, I feel sad, depressed, and uneasy. I am not me anymore. I feel so delusional, I am writing this today after my second episode of breakdown nearly 3 years later.

I wonder why these episodes have been dormant, they were dormant for three big years and I had no track of them. They tried to emerge in the little form of crying and anger which I would deflect as a regular phenomenon of the month due to hormone accumulation and situations that you have no control over.

I wonder how many times my brain wandered there not knowing that this was the disease and yes this needs treatment.

Some people call it that it is called staying low, I have come to observe a strange pattern for that matter, How insignificant we are related to matters of our normal lives and we claim to unravel its mysteries via a degree in psychology and social interactions, we have written thousands of books over the years to depict every pattern of the human image, brain their reactions, we have been doing advancements over the technology using psychology to interpret the human behavior their choices and developed a tool called the pattern recognition and AI only to render them useless when one of my episodes happened.

Confession of a student at the Ivy League University.

It was a beautiful day, I have been doing my regular chores of the day, I really wanted this job, so I prepared on the weekends, ditched the Friday night party and kept on memorizing things for my next big break. Being an intern was never easy, I was close to completing my 6 months as an intern and now was my time to get a job and be on my own to fulfill my dream. I have been stress relaxing and indulged in clean eating and power yoga to gain energy from nature and since a great believer of the mystic forces, I chanted the power numbers and mantras to help me in achieving the goal sooner.

It was Monday and suddenly I felt uneasy, I started my day doing yoga, breathing, and relaxing in the fresh air but suddenly I didn’t want to do yoga, instead, I had a hard time completing it. I feel so uneasy, I just pushed myself to do it to be relaxed later. Suddenly I get a call from my brother’s dorm and they have been trying me for a couple of days now, They started throwing his stuff out and asked him to leave dorm immediately, It was always a problem, Being Black It is hard to survive and be a victim of the racism is not uncanny. I requested them to not do so, after my job I was planning to get a place of my own to live together and it still had a few days to go. I fought everything that I could, I was already paying them much higher and this was it, I paid them a few more bucks to allow him to be there but instead, he was out on the streets, It was a 2-hour drive from my place to his, I had the interview in the hour, I told him to wait it out at friends or a cafe and I will be there before the sundown. I gave my interview struggling to be stable and sane, afterward, I got in my car and drove to him, to find him all his stuff and his guitar. I could not speak and stuffed his belongings in my car and brought him with me, I was living in the boarding house so I accommodated his living in the guest house, I got a call from the mother making me feel guilty and responsible for this situation, I could not hold it...[A brief Pause] and were the stuff of my brother he was busy collecting his things, I started throwing things and shouted immensely and cried even more than that until a few hours later the headache started and my brain was fried and I could not talk to anyone feeling normal.[slow sobs]

Author: Onesha

She is the funny one! Has flair for drama, loves to write when happy! You might hate her first story, but maybe you’ll like the next. She is the master of words, but believes actions speak louder than words. 1sha Rastogi, founder of 1shablog.com.

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