September 23rd, 2010

Choir

It's a little bit funny. I had assumed that going to the hospital and getting professional help would, well, help even if a little bit. It hasn't, really. I just know for certain now what's wrong with me. No, not even that. It's just a paper dictating what they think I've got. Nothing's set in stone. They haven't even settled on what exactly triggered my quote-unquote "brain hemorrhaging". It wasn't even that. My brain hadn't started bleeding.

...I think that's on me. It was foolish of me to assume that the healthcare system would know anything at all about the supernatural. Those who have brought their experiences up have been shunned, shut away under the pretense that they're crazy. I knew this. That's why I didn't say anything, acted exactly as they wanted me to.

I've woken up with images in my head of places I've never been. Not dreams, but memories. I wake up with another person's heart beating in my chest, resting beneath the skin and clawing away. I stumble away into my bathroom and puke. I've been fatigued ever since I left the hospital. I thought they were supposed to help me.