While surfing Youtube, I came across this first episode of the soap opera General Hospital which aired on April 1, 1963. In one scene, a girl named Angie Costello has a bandaged eye. As I watched, her situation seemed like my own; particularly, the tragic events of her life.

One scene stood out for me. It was the scene where the nurse asks, ‘Angie, why do you do it?” and Angie replies, ‘You know why!’ This scene reminded me of my situation because I closed the curtains, covered mirrors, and shut out the world.

You see, after a series of untimely, tragic events in my life, I was angry. I lost my parents. I lost an eye. For a second time in my life, I almost died. And I lost other things, which I still can’t talk about.

Other scenes stood out, too. For example, in one tense scene, Angie said, ‘I wish I was dead,’ and the doctor replies, ‘This can’t go on, Angie. You’re disrupting the entire floor. Disturbing all the other patients. Making a nuisance of yourself to everyone.’ This scene really happened to me, too.

I felt like Angie in many ways. In another emotionally charged scene, she said, ‘I just can’t help it.’ Also, she says in that scene, ‘Everything is such a mess.’ I really felt this way in my life.

Essentially, I was bitter. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. I didn’t want to look at people. I didn’t want to be around people. I, too, just wanted to post a “No Visitors” sign on my door.

I never left home. I ordered my food. I would not be social. When I had some energy, I would watch Youtube or write. And I stayed in my room.

It was for the best because I was destructive. I wanted to break things. I wanted to hit things. I wanted to hurt myself. I was furious. I had to be watched from a distance. Nobody should of been around me.

People tried to help me, but they couldn’t comfort me. I just couldn’t be comforted. And I hated comfort.

I just wanted time to pass. I just curled up in my bed. I would sit on my bed and stare at walls. I would watch the blowing trees and leaves on the curtains, and I would imagine myself on a different planet. I’d watch the sun rise and fall on the curtains. I had nothing.

And when I could not take it anymore, I would run. And run. And I would run 2 to 8 hours non-stop in some cases. I would of ran forever if I could. And I would do push-ups constantly throughout my runs, too, until my arms gave out. I would do it over and over and over, because the pain felt better than the present and I wanted the pain to last forever. And sometimes I would breakdown and cry uncontrollably while doing push-ups, but I just couldn’t stop, because it was worst if I stopped.

It’s strange how an old General Hospital television show could still be relevant in a person’s life. It aired long before I was born. Yet, that’s what I was going through- and still am.



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