It’s hard to explain exactly what I felt it wasn’t anger nor sadness and not the regular feeling of depression. It was like another part of me was forming and eating me up inside to make room for whatever it was. Yet, it was just me. It wasn’t anyone else but myself.
I was recreating this thing inside me and I was feeding it with every tear and every ounce of pain I swallowed. I remember my friend telling me it wasn’t going to end, but I showed her.
I swallowed all the prescribed medications in my mother's cabinet and lied down in my bed to take a short rested nap. I closed my eyes and prayed that this void would go away. When I awoke with the feeling gone I realized that it couldn’t follow me anymore.
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