Two weeks later, I was also sent home for one night. Excited and homesick, I planned activities with my sister. We baked a cake, exercised, got our bodies to produce some serotonin, and even took a walk by the lake on a sunny day. It seemed like these should have been beautiful hours. And they were, but not like I had experienced in another life. These were deliberately planned actions meant to give the feeling that enjoyment was still possible. They were supposed to remind me what normal life was like. They reminded me a little, but they also reminded me of the stress and chaos that exists outside the clinic walls and how exhausting it is for my mind.
Ahhh and the true life-giver was my little sister. How did the universe choose this person to be born as my sister and be by my side during this life-and-death time? A person who spreads a desire for life, gives warmth, and makes you feel that you are important! That you should live!
My little sister holds your hand and gives you the energy of love, laughs and makes you want to laugh. She cooks, cleans the house, and tells you that you deserve care, and all of this without hesitation or complaint. How accurately did the universe send her to me?
But her treatment of me reminded me of my father and his death. My little sister treated him the same way, not wanting to miss anything while he was still alive. She managed to hold the hand of the stone father, as I remember him, to pet him, to share secrets, and to talk with him. This treatment reminded me of my father and his death. On the train to the lake, tears rolled down my cheeks and my body went numb.
Depression attacks me with the fear of death. Still, I will not surrender!
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