It was a rainy day and I had just got back from the hospital with my grandma. This was the day I was discharged after staying in that medicine and pills-reeking place; I hated it.

The day marked a week since I did the unimaginable. No one could dare judge me, they had never endured half the pain I felt. Not even one of them could relate and that gave me a reason to bottle my emotions up. I was shattered.

As I sat by the veranda, busy minding my own business, thoughts came flooding to mind. I felt my cup of coffee change in temperature from hot to cold within a minute, and that’s when I immediately drifted and fell into the trap of thoughts. Back to where it all started, the time I felt lost.

Growing up I was a bubbly child, a girl full of life, smart and one of a kind. I loved people and my people loved me, and everywhere I went my presence was felt. I was kind and always jolly, but all that was taken advantage of in an unimaginable and undignified manner; I was molested. Not by my people, no, but a bunch of scumbags who left my soul wondering if it truly belonged to these grounds – I was lost.

My people tried to come to my rescue. Sadly, it was only the body they could save and my soul kept wandering around. I couldn’t bear this world any more, I needed my soul. I swore to go to any length to get it back and that’s when I did the unimaginable: SUICIDE.

Although it did help, it didn’t work. I found my soul and we reconnected, but sadly I couldn’t find ME! I tried to be strong not only for my soul, but for the me I needed to find. Weeks went by and I was miserable every second. I would never recover. Neither did I give up. I continued with my mission to find me, the real me, the old me, the ME.

I cried at the thought of this. That’s when I realised I had just drifted back to the real world and wasn’t buried in my thoughts any more. Only to find that nothing has really changed, I still felt lost.

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