I was alone. My family was upstate and my best friend who was studying at UCLA finished and moved back home. My other best friend had just broken up with me. My roommate was always in his room, and we weren't really friends as much as two people simply cohabiting. I had no one.
I had work. That at least gave me something to do. But I did it all on automatic, all on autopilot. I couldn't remember how to laugh. I was not capable of smiling. I wanted to sleep. I didn't want to get up.
My hunger was so strong I could even feel my stomach cramping as it grumbled, but as soon as I would open the fridge, nausea would seize me and I'd have to quickly shut the door.
And feeling hungry was good. Feeling hungry meant I could feel something other than sad.
I had to find the tiniest things to give me comfort. The fact that the down escalators at CityWalk reminded me of waterfalls cascading down huge cliffs in Yosemite was one of the very few things that kept me sane. And ripping colored magazine paper and pasting them onto cardboard was somehow a release.
I was a marionette whose strings didn't work to lift up my hands or legs. I was dragged along, motionless, useless. Broken.
I spent 8 months fixing myself into the woman I am today. And I have The Maple Counseling Center to thank. Sliding scale therapy in Beverly Hills. A Must for any Angeleno who needs to restring their appendages to dance happily onstage again.
Sometimes the world is incredibly daunting, lonely and scary. You have help available when you can't see all the love that surrounds you. Stay strong. Stay healthy. Stay safe.