Distortion Disorder

I can't help but feel brainless. I can't help but see a zombie; a trail of haunting memories when I look in the mirror. I can't help but feel stupid and ashamed when I find myself sitting in this stupid pleather chair. Can this man sitting in front of me help me? Can he really erase the horrid memories?

All I can do is hope that he hands me more medication, so that I can feel like nothing can ever hurt me. I've been hurt all too much in the past, and it doesn't matter because no matter how many pills I dry-swallow, I still here the phone call replay over and over in my head.

"Keanna? Are you listening?"

"What," I ask, suddenly being pulled back into the dark room.

"I'm increasing your dose."

"Oh." Would he know that the daily dose was already increased?

"Kiki, you're going to have to talk about all of this at some point. I know that it's difficult for you, but I've talked with your parents, and they're worried about you."

"Are they?"

"Keanna, this is a very serious situation. Why don't we start off slow today. How have you been since we last met?"

"The same as always," I answer.

"And what is that," he asks as he leans forward in curiosity.

"Empty. Confused. Lonely."

"I see. Have you felt at all like.... hurting yourself. Since it happened?"

I don't know. Have I? Haven't I? Isn't it wrong not to? I mean.... Jake was my boyfriend- I loved him. And he left without a word; a single word. He didn't even leave a note. And now... I understand what he was feeling- I understand what it was like for him to feel so alone...

"Keanna.... Are you listening?"