Blur:

As I opened the door it nearly came off its hinges. The door scraped along the floor with a screech. I managed to get a glimpse inside, but all I could see is a cheap plastic chair sitting still like an illness waiting to devour its next victim. I reach out to touch the rough plastic but everything seems so far away. The chair is getting smaller, by now it's as small as a 5 cent piece. Why is this happening to me? What have I become?

This disease makes you seek lonely places, and that is what I started doing during the second semester of my first year in college. The black creek, the woods, the empty fields, the old cemetery, anywhere away from people, away from their critical eyes. I would seek out these places, choosing routes and times that would mean I could avoid as many people as possible. I thought it was normal the voices inside me and the continuous ticking were inside everyone.

I grew more and more agitated with myself. I couldn't do the things I enjoyed to do, nor did I want to do them. My parents call me apathetic. I'm ambiguous and distorted, confused and isolated. But I'm never really lonely, couldn't possibly be lonely with the voices that fill up my thoughts. I couldn't hear myself think anymore. I didn't want to be accompanied anymore. I ought to be alone, truly alone at peace.

That's why I did it. You might question how it got that bad. How someone would want to end their own depressed, miserable, wretched life. Attempt 1, attempt 2, attempt 3, 4, 5 and that was when my "loving' mother and "caring, sympathetic' father decided that enough was enough. "Anna, we need to talk" in her incentive tone. I was dreading this conversation, trying to jimmy my way out of confessing. I just couldn't spit out the words to explain the fizzing that had built up after years of anti-depressants. I whimpered an excuse "Mum, dad. Everything's fine "followed by a painfully fake cynical, sanguinely smile. Hopefully that was enough for now. How long could I last? I had no one to talk to, to express my unsocial behaviour. I went for a walk via the old cemetery. Voices, voices, voices giving me orders, directions, they only get more annoying and repetitive. "Anna, Anna, Anna!" I can stand it anymore. Then a made a decision that could change my life or in this case, end my life with yet another failed attempt.

I'm sitting at the polished marble table. My parents had spent more time looking at that table, than their own daughters face. Everything in this house matched. It all blended in, everything except for me. The chair squeaked as I sat my frail drug addicted body down. I know how I want my life to end. My parents won't be to upset; they'll look at it like another problem off their hands. With all this tumult of emotions out of the way I took the little plastic amethyst orange medicine bottle. I peeled off the delicate white lid. Inside the smell of stale bread filled the thick sour air. I struggle to steady my constantly shaking sweating hand. It's impossible to pour out the contents, out onto the blank bench. One by one I pick up the oval shape and admired the aquiline corners and distinct colour. The last thing I remember is the taste of tangy medicinal alkaline sleeping tablets.

My parents meet me at the hospital. I know all the questions that will follow the greetings. "Hey Anna" mum will pretend to be dejected. Then arises the disappointed waffle of "Anna, I thought you were going to stop this, what on earth could have possessed to make you do such a drastic thing"?" she paused, the shock of realisation smothered across her scrawny face. Had she unravelled my embarrassing secret? But this time compared to all the other stabs was very different. My mother has been commended for her arrogant conceited tone several times before, but she has completely under estimated that definition. There words were coming ever so fast out of her succulent plump lips "Anna baby, you need help. But we can't give you the help you need here." I heart skipped a beat; the morose voices were unresponsive at a halt. No time for my input into the one sided conversation, mother had made her selfish inconsiderate decision. "We need to institutionalize you."

The institution is a whirlpool of confused feelings and sober thoughts. I dreaded each moment, I don't belong here. The walls aren't sinuous they're not bright and exotic, instead they're the total opposite. The pale blue rustic paint drapes the 2.13 metre wide halls exactly. Dead bodies saunter down the narrow gateway. This all leads to the golden room. The contents of this room are minimal. When the dead bodies enter the room they become less life like than before. "You need to meet with the psychologist, Anna" pronounces a very witty, jovial, happy nurse "The what? I don't even know what a psychologist is?" She greets me with a wistful smile. This is going great I whisper to myself. We do the usual welcome and then she jumps straight in the deep end. "What were things like at home leading up to this event? Why did you do it Anna? Why did you try to take your own life?" This woman has lost total respect for me. The statements lie in my mind second after second of each minute of the day.

The night is mild. I wake up to shouts and continuous disruptive banging of the wall beside me. Screaming and echo's fill the hallway. I always wanted to see the golden room, to smell the grass. Perhaps this room could change me? What if it was filled with gleeful gummy bears and unimaginable unicorns? Or maybe demeaning demons or witty wear wolfs? I had made my assessment. I tiptoed over to my door. I grabbed the cold metal brass handle and opened it without a squeak. My room is dark; there are no windows no colour, only my imagination left to paint the pictures. As I step out on to the plain white lino flooring I knew what direction to go. I had planned my adventure time after time in my mind. "Avoid everything, and go straight to the golden room, straight to the golden room Anna!" whispers the voices. I listen to them.

"I'm a lumber plank, being hauled by a bunch of meddling malicious demons, to the place I wistfully seek" Why am I being dragged if I seek this lonely place? I leave the door open as I'm in such a panic. Too many thoughts and ideas fill my head "Solitude, isolation, Anna, nearly there?" I have my sight set on the glowing golden gateway. It seems like it only a blink away. I lock my eyes closed for a second. As I reopened them the glowing sparkling door was no longer in sight. No longer have toes distanced apart. I can smell the lush green grass but I cannot see it. There standing is this optimistic, provocative, grey haired little old woman. She's wearing a faded dull cargo sweat shirt with colour drained baggy jeans with the joggers.

Everything's going to be better. Back to the way it was. "I only have to listen to them, they only desire to enter the golden room, and then they'll leave forever!" The woman confronted me "You look lost how about I help you find your way?" This woman looked trustworthy and reliable. All the signs pointed at the obvious answer. I take her guidance and follow her to the golden room. My mind is over filled with excitement. I'm finally going to this wonderland. She points to the room and speaks "Is this where you want to go Anna?" It was like she was reading my mind? I replied with "Yes" Nothing more nothing less. "You have made the correct choice Anna" Step after step down the radiant gateway is going ever so quick. In a wink of the mystically woman's eye we reach the ebony chalk door. She grasps the handle and turns. The sweat is running down my cheek. The door swings open with a thud. The woman disappears. There's no time for sub plots, I've finally ended it.

The room is boring white. White walls white floor white everything. It only contains a table and a small orange object placed perpendicular on the harsh wood. I take tiny steps across the lino floor trying to regain a better view of the bright orange object. I manage to get a glimpse of the orange object. It is a little orange medicine bottle. All of a sudden everything goes blurry. I regain my vision. I'm sitting at a marble kitchen table. Why is there a bottle of sleeping pills in front of me? I jumped up straight out of the chair. I ran and gave my mother and father a massive hug. "It's me, it's me, it's me again!" I shout with glee!