Get Well Soon

Everything is just as lovely as it always has been, here in my hometown—perhaps even lovelier. Vibrant green trees line smooth, spotless streets. Walking past the clean white fences reflecting off the light of the afternoon sun, you can hear the sound of birds chirping and children playing safely outside, immersed in the scent of swirling swimming pools and freshly mowed lawns.

Though obvious to me now, there was a time when I was unable to appreciate these simple aesthetic pleasures, a time when beauty was not enough. I kept trying to look beyond the surface, wanting to believe I could uncover some deeper meaning or inherent purpose. To think that I ever wanted for more than this perfect little town, filled with my loving friends and family.

They started my medication when I was in the fourth grade. I was scared, at first, of how the things I had been feeling would ostracize me, and so I kept them a secret for as long as I could. But I went to such a great school, with such caring and vigilant teachers. They noticed when I began to lose interest in playing with the other children. My attention span and productivity declined, and my attitude started to become...less than agreeable...for no reason at all! No one was bullying me, nor was I having any problems at home. I had just begun to feel...some sort of way. There was no explanation for it, and it kept getting worse.

Opening up to the doctors changed my life. They told me that it was nothing to be ashamed of. You see, I have a mental condition that affects just under fifty percent of the population by the age of twenty-one. For most of those affected, symptoms don’t usually start until around fourteen. “You’re just an early bloomer,” they would tell me. That was very sweet of them. They assured me it was not my fault at all, that some people are just born this way.

What was it like when my condition first seeped into my life? Well, it is hard to describe exactly. I would just start to...notice things. Things that did not matter, of course. For instance, I would see a dead leaf along my path, and another child would run across it, crushing it beneath his feet. I would stare at the crumbled remains that so little resembled the life they once carried, and they would evoke in me a sudden sense of loss, as if I were witnessing the passing of a dear friend. And then I would become angry with the boy, and frustrated with all the bystanders even, for not stopping to mourn with me. For not noticing what was lost.

Of course, I know now that it was all silly nonsense. Entire narratives spun around a single, unthinking leaf. But at that age, there are sometimes certain ideas we may struggle to wrap our heads around, and that internal conflict can lead to feelings of overwhelming discomfort, anxiety, and...incompatibility. Why anyone in their right mind would get stuck on such a meaningless detail is a mystery to me now, and I am much better for it.

Both of my parents have, or rather had, this condition too. My father started medicating at sixteen, my mother at thirteen. My mother is who I am really here to talk about today. You see, last month, during her annual Volunteer Service at one of the Overseas Relocation Centers, a heavy storm hit. While she and the others survived, their medical supplies were washed away, including her medication. Proper healthcare and pharmaceuticals can be nearly impossible to access in a timely manner within these Overseas Relocation Centers. Due to financial limitations, all Sefelt Nicholson & Family United labs are still domestic, and it may take up to two weeks for an order from abroad to be prepared and shipped out.

Five days. Five days was all it took. Without her certified prescription of Sefelt Nicholson & Family United mood stabilizers, her disease overtook her and she self-terminated.

Sefelt Nicholson & Family United took care of everything so that I did not have to go through the unnecessary trauma of sorting through her possessions or handling her remains. If you were to experience a situation like mine, a team of specially trained Sentiment Health Analysts will even customize your grieving experience with a selection of memorabilia along with the story you need to hear in order to optimize your healing process and help you remember the good over the bad.

This locket here was one of her most prized possessions. When she used to release this silver clasp at the bottom edge of the heart, it would play a gentle little melody that my mother loved to listen to every day before she took her medicine. However, the analyst team anticipated that hearing this melody now would trigger memories in me that could hinder the healing process. Perceptive and thorough, they replaced it with this guided meditation recording that reminds us all to not let ourselves get stuck in the past, and instead remain mindful and focus our mental energy on positive visualizations for our future. While medicine may help us generate the chemicals we need for emotional balance, hope is something we must create for ourselves.

Without the help of Sefelt Nicholson & Family United, the passing of my mother would have been too difficult to bear. The first day I heard the news, I felt my old self beginning to reemerge—the dark, infinitely collapsing sense of despair that whispered to me that nothing was as it should be nor had it ever been, and that behind every smile hid row upon row of fetid, rotting teeth. All that was once pure and perfect had turned to pretense. By the next morning, I did not want to get out of bed. I did not want to go to work. I did not want to go out and laugh with my friends. But thanks to Sefelt Nicholson & Family United, I never missed out on a single day. The spaces in my heart which were filled with bitterness for what I had lost were quickly replaced with gratitude for what I still had.

However, within that gratitude, we cannot forget one fact: Self-termination is the primary cause of unlife within the non-medicated population under the age of thirty. Every day, hundreds of our otherwise healthy youth die from this tragic disease. So please, if you are experiencing any of these symptoms, seek help. I am standing here before you today to let you know: If you have started feeling some sort of way, you are not alone, and there is a cure. Take care of yourself and your loved ones by getting medicated today.

And if you have concerns about the price, Sefelt Nicholson & Family United has many service programs available to subsidize your self-care needs, such as our Volunteer Abroad Services for the displaced and disenfranchised.

We here at Sefelt Nicholson & Family United understand that the content of today's material may have been distressing for some of you in the audience. And that is why you will see we have placed dispensers at each exit, which contain your free sample of Reharten: A non-addictive, non-prescription dietary supplement that instantly relieves the thoughts that keep you from living your best life. Controlled studies show that 84% of users immediately experience improvements in mood and attitude, while 60% of regular users even see a 30-50% increase in workplace productivity.

Don’t let these unwanted feelings take control of your life. Help is out there, if you are willing to accept it.

________

"She wasn't sick, you know."

"Sorry?"

"Your mother. She wasn't sick."

"I'm sorry, who are you?"

"She couldn't tell you. You had a sister."

"I'm afraid you must have me mistaken for someone else."

"You don't remember, do you? Maybe you were too young. A stillborn."

"What are you saying..."

"Ask your father, he knows. Or don't think about it. Either way, your mother wasn't sick. She was just sad, and she had nowhere to put it. No one wanted to see it. So she buried it."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"It wasn't five days. She ditched the pills at the start of service every year. We didn’t have much in the laborhoods—or what was it you called them—relocation centers? We went through a lot there, but we never had to hide the truth of it from ourselves to get by. She was remembering, once the drugs wore off, but that wasn't what killed her. She was just sad. And there was no place for that in her world, your world. She couldn't keep leaving it behind."

"What do you want from me."

"She wasn't sick, just sad. Who told her she needed to get better?"

"No, she had been afflicted since she was a child, just like me. We're just...susceptible. To these kinds of things. Thoughts. Feelings. Bad feelings that aren't real."

"There wasn't anything wrong with her, and there isn't anything wrong with you."

"No...I was...I am unwell. It's happening right now. I can't...I can't bear it on my own. I need help. You shouldn't...you shouldn't say these things. There's no shame in needing help. There's no shame in not being strong enough."

"You may want to see if you can't recover that old tune from that locket you had. You may have forgotten, but you knew once before, without anyone having to tell you."

"Why are you saying this? What do you want from me? I'm just—I'm just trying to be happy. I'm just trying to live my best life. Why are you...you're not making any sense. This conversation is not good for me. I'm not...I'm not well. If I'm not well, I need to get better."

"You're right, there is no shame in not being strong enough. But who said it was a question of strength? Who convinced you that what you've felt is something to defeat?"