The honest truth
The truth is, I had to rebuild a lot of times. It has been exhausting.
There were times when I looked out my rented window and wondered if my head would go through. If only those windows had been big enough.
I had started to stutter from chugging all those cough syrups during that one year. Every night, I prayed for time travel to a simpler time or for a hundred clones where each of us would have different characteristics and duties to perform. For instance, some of us would work jobs, others would motivate the depressed one like myself. Of course, we would all be able to live in a mansion with a beautiful garden and a swimming pool. The tired ones would rest and the refreshed ones would take over.
It all didn’t happen. I was left all alone in my pool of misery and addiction. My introversion paralyzed me. I didn’t leave my room when I heard a sound outside. A knock on the door would startle me. Sleep was my only kind friend. The rest I didn’t keep in touch with. I made sure to erase them one after another because it seemed like the right thing to do.