I’m sitting here in my apartment wondering when will my rescue arrive. I look over my phone. I open WhatsApp. I glimpse at all the unopened messages I received. I feel like a disappointment for not answering them. I wonder what they think about me. Do they know of my love for them? Do they know I care? Do they know how debilitating it feels like when I cannot reply and tell them that I love them and I miss them? I look at all the ignored messages I sent. It’s now the other way around. Do they miss me? Do they care that I messaged them asking for companionship? Things spiral from there.

I close my phone and I look around and try to absorb the present. I consciously try to activate my senses. To listen to what is around me. Yet within a few seconds the thoughts take over again. I ask myself who I can message right now. Who can come to my rescue? I just need someone to tell me I am a good person. That things will be fine. That I’m catastrophizing again. They don’t have to believe it themselves. They could be lying and I would know it, but I couldn’t care less as long as I hear it from someone else. I believe I’m a rational person, unless the rationality needs to be extended to encompass myself. As soon as I request the same standards I hold others to, the rationality is dismantled. The system immediately feels corrupt if it includes me. Call it a conflict of interests.

I attempt to interrupt my thoughts again. My therapist tried to introduce me to Socratic questioning. I point out logical fallacies in defense. I try to introduce counter-evidence. I call my memories as witnesses to the stand. I object. I offer rebuttals and refutals. I object. I object. I object. But the proceedings move forward. The prosecution does not rest. Soon, the noise from the courtroom of my mind becomes intensely overwhelming.
I pace the apartment for a few minutes. I open my phone again and immediately close it again. Physical pain adds another layer of complexity. My tooth aches. My lower back flaring up. My right foot numb. My stomach upset. I ask myself what does my body need right now. Food? Water? Am I dehydrated? Am I sleep deprived? I shake my knee uncontrollably as I sit at the desk, staring silently at my to-do list. I’m two weeks from graduation, and I still haven’t submitted my final papers.

I shift to another approach. Lets aim for some encouragement. I write a letter to myself. I scribble aggressively on a scrap piece of paper with my pen. You’re strong I say. You are capable. You have been through worse and succeeded. I shower myself with positivity and encouragement, with a mixture of hope sprinkled on top. I glance my reflection in the laptop monitor. “I despise you” I murmur to the person I see in front of me. Simply seeing the person responsible for my suffering evokes a repugnant rot in my throat. The illusion of self worth is shattered.

As I fail to defend myself, I attempt instead to escape. I look around the apartment. What vice should I participate in today? How can I cloud my mind and put a stop to the noise? If I can’t fight my way out perhaps flight is the better option. I scour the kitchen. Coffee will make me focus, herbal tea might calm me down, but that bottle of vodka has a better chance to dampen the noise. I contemplate mixing it with something. I decide it’s too much effort and pour myself a shot. I gulp it down. In a few seconds, the prosecutor decides to take a recess.