Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
300 Letters - 42. Letter 41 (Doughnut)
12.12.2015
Dear C,
I just had a second visit from my mum.
Oh babe, it was tough. My mum couldn’t stop crying when she saw me. I didn’t cry. My antidepressants kicked in so hard that I wasn’t much aware of what was going on around me. Around an hour before the visit my hands started to shake so much again that I couldn’t even hold my coffee mug.
Luckily I managed to turned the entire visit into more positive experience. Eventually, we even laughed and joked.
They bought me another cheese and egg sandwich! And a doughnut. C, it was so good. So good… I forgot how the real food (well as long as this food can be called “real”) tastes like. I was trying to tell them about all these weird people I have been meeting here, but it is impossible to describe it properly – unless you see and talk to them in person. I re-assured my mum over and over again that I am ok (lies) and that I will be ok (hope).
For a brief moment there I felt like I want to survive all this. Like I want to live and be happy again. Like I want to breathe again. With or without you. I still have 2 years to go through this hell, but I hope I will give it a go. I just need to stop hanging to your existence. I need to focus on me. Will I? But then the memories of the past start haunting me and all I can see is you. Us. Together living the life of our dreams. How do I stop this?
As we said our goodbyes – we didn’t cry. Well at least not in front of each other. Kasia said she would visit me soon and mum promised that she would fly to UK again in the summer to see me then. When they disappeared from my sight in that visiting hall I cried. Just a bit.
When I got back to my cell I Locked myself in and fell asleep. I was exhausted. The past two days took a massive toll on me. I feel emotionally drained. So I slept till the dinner time. I picked up my dinner (boxed salad – even rabbits would run away from it if they saw it) – and went back to sleep. It is now 2.14 in the morning and I am wide awake. Hence I’m writing this letter to you.I will have to take more antidepressants now to fall asleep again.
Now when I think about this weekend – I wonder if actually it really happened? Have mum and Kasia really visited me? Or was it just one of my dreams?
It’s new week tomorrow and I will try to make it count. I don’t know how. But I will look for the way. I just don’t want to reach another rock bottom. Because I know what will happen next – the floor would open up again and I would fall even deeper. Over and over again.
If God is watching me – he must be having a good, old laugh at my expense. Sick sense of humour. And what God anyway?
C, let me finish here. I feel sick. I’ll pop in some pills and try to sleep.
Look after yourself there please. Get better.
I am missing you.
Forever yours,
Sebastian
- 2
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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