Internal Wars Rage on Quietly
The inside of a mental health battle.
Internal Wars Rage on Quietly
As I sit in this crammy, overly welcoming office, I notice the colors of the walls; happy colors—yellows and pinks. I notice the inspirational posters— so tacky I want to puke or light them on fire. Then, a bright-eyed, short woman with wavy, shoulder-length hair walks through the door and sets herself down in the chair placed before me. She looks at me for a while, almost as if she’s examining me. She looks at my collar bones and at my wrists, and suddenly I can feel the difference between us. I can feel the concern she contains, but also the understanding that she lacks. Finally, she takes a deep breath and says,