As the date gets closer and closer to a year since the hospital, I feel not much has changed. I still feel alone and the mere thought of “happy” holiday season makes me want to puke or punch something. My head is at the same spot as dec 8th 2014 and I can’t help but feel a sense of comfort thinking about my room down the right hall, my roommate Sadie and all the other people I met that made me feel a sense of togetherness, a sense of peace because I felt safe from myself. That is by no means the way it should be. I should look back and feel the warmth of past holiday memories but instead when I look back I feel fakeness; an imposter. I want to wake up and have purpose and not feel as if I’m living a life that isn’t my own; a life possessed by my mind,my trauma, my disdain.