June 8,1985

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I Gazed at the Ceiling fan which hung above me, it was circling in real slow manner, and I could hear the creaks and dirt embedded inside it...

The image of the fan was etched inside my heart, it felt like the image meant something to me...

My heart thumped deeper and deeper
I was growing more and more nervous each second.... My first visit to the therapist...
'People are the worst'

I think to myself...
I look at myself in the mirror, I carry everyday.....
I Just liked looking at my face a lot.....
My cheeks have grown more and more skinny by the time....
I was pro anorexic for some reason....

I looked at the dead look in my eyes and my pale lips which parted in a small smirk....
I had a nose piercing...
My pointy nose smiled back at me and I put my hoodie back on my face....

It was time to see the therapist...
I feel so awkward writing this to you my dear self , because, I feel like the only person I speak my heart out to,is you...

The surreal loneliness was creeping me out, When the therapist called me out....

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