After spending an hour in the bathroom screaming in pain and using the toilet as a projectile target, I crawled back into the bedroom. Sitting on the floor and leaning against the edge of the bed I sighed and tried to fight back tears. I hung my head between my knees and let the desperation consume me. I needed answers to ward off the feeling of abandonment.
“You can’t just lock me up in here!” I tried screaming, hoping someone would come in the room, but I didn’t even know if everyone else was still in the apartment; it was more likely that they had all gone home.
“Hello?” I asked the silent air around me. “Anyone? Can you hear me? Can you help me?”
“Can you tell me what’s happening?” I wanted to know, letting my pitch fall as I asked the words aloud. There was no sound – no reply – to my callings.
Giving up on any human contact, I pulled myself up onto the bed and laid on my back. I didn’t understand how isolating me was going to help; sure, it would make me do more for myself, but I was never against doing things on my own when people were still coming to see me.
Anthromagic by Crystal and Pamela MacLean is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.