"It's healthy to reminisce about the past, dahyun. It's damaging to live in it." I snapped out of my thoughts to hear my therapist's final sentence after a long speech that analysed my overthinking mentality again.

There I was, sitting right there, right in that chair, thinking to myself for the thousandth time...How did I manage to get myself stuck in here? All these people, therapists, medicine to make me feel 'better'. Sometimes, I feel like I want to be here. But I know that's mainly because I'm too scared to get out, back to people, so I end up acting out of fear, pushing people away. But I could never admit that to someone. Admit it to any therapist or any other patient because that's too weak. People can't feel better with the passage of time, waiting for a change to fall onto their heads from the sky. They can only outgrow their old selves and move on. But that's hard work. And no one really knows how to do that.

Truly getting better and moving on are two different things. They come along with each other, one after the other. So, all this doesn't matter. I could talk about this for hours and it still wouldn't do anything. All I can expect is to get sedated, shut down and forced to have a social interaction when all I want is a true rest. A rest without oversensitive roommates and the forced idea of becoming a "stable person". So why would I play nice?

"I'm not living in the past. I'm resting from it." I said, sighing at the clichè saying he spoke so wisely about. "But when you think about it too much and remember all the hurt, then you do live in it. Regardless of what you say." He spoke as I couldn't really listen anymore. "I want to go to my room." I cut him off before he could say anything and sighed. "We can't avoid the problem like thi-" He tried to speak but I cut him off again. "Please." I spoke, which was something I rarely said, to anyone.

"Alright. I'm going to let you off talk sessions for a few days, only if you need you can come-" He exhaled in a calm tone. "What is it now?" I cut him off, knowing there was something about to happen I'm not going to like so he could analyse me again about it in a few days. He always let me of the hook the easy way when he had his sessions planned for me. I've always thought he was doing that on purpose, regardless of what excuses he would make. 

He sighed and answered. "You're getting a new roommate today." He said, which made me roll my eyes. "I want to see if you're going to get along considering your previous roommates." Even though it annoyed me, I realised that was a very acceptable thing to hear from him. At our ward, most people go through one or two roommates during their stay. Not exactly the same with me. I went through 17 roommates since the beginning of the year. When I'm bored next time I should add it all up over the years. Who knows, there might be some sort of a reward for such a high score like that. 

All of those people wanted to switch to another roommate because of me. I never asked for another roommate. The nurses just kept setting me with them, not wanting me to have a room for myself, thinking that would make me more messed up about human interactions. I scared most of them away by joking quite aggressively, turning those jokes into insults most of the time. I was warned many times but because I've been here for a long time, they don't want to switch me to another hospital. That wouldn't help anyone. To say I've been staying here for a while is a big understatement. I've been in here before I even became a teen. I even got my first period in this ward. I lived through the beginning of my teens here, bringing us to now, almost at the end of my teens wondering why do I feel the same I did when I was a kid.

All these roommates spoke the same, describing me as this huge, dramatic bite they couldn't keep up with. Seeing their cried out or frustrated faces somehow made my life fun in here. Only fun for me though. I got up and left the room, without speaking. He knew that I was going to go to the reception desk just to complain about my brand new freshly fucked up roommate, like I always did. I walked down the hallway, pulling down my sleeves of my favourite brown cardigan. sana noticed me on the way and walked with me. "Why me? Why again-" I tried to speak to my favourite nurse but she cut me off. "We talked about that a thousand times, dah" She spoke, focused on some of the papers she held in her hands. "But-" I tried to speak but she cut me off again, in a busy tone. "The support group is about to start. They're all waiting for you." She said, making me roll my eyes.