Are you happy?

It has been 2 years since I realized that there is something wrong with me. I felt wrong but not in such a way that I have done something terrible or that I have a rotten personality. I felt wrong as if something was taken from me. I felt that the roses that used to grow in me doesn’t grow anymore. It was thorns instead. Thorns kept on growing inside of me as I try to water the roses. Sometimes the roses grows back, too. But it withers away quickly, leaving me with thorns instead that never withers.

I was a regular person working hard on her 9–6 PM job trying to get by the daily struggle of the adult life. I was a fresh graduate from one of the prestigious universities in the country, holding a bachelor’s degree of Psychology proudly. I even told my parents and friends that I would pursue a flowery path in the field of clinical psychology, telling them that I wanted to help and listen to those in need without knowing that I may be needing help soon.

It all came crushing down on me, when I sat down on that empty chair for applicants and staff, in my coworker’s cubicle, trying to take a small break from the applicants I have to interview. My coworker jokingly asked me, “Are you happy?”. I was caught off-guard. I was confused like my brain was not able to process the simple question thrown at me. I teared up and cried. I was laughing while crying, trying to save myself from a harmless blow. God knows how confused I was that day. I even asked myself a thousand times,”What is happening to me?”.

Just like any other person, I shrugged the confusion away. I shrugged off the questions that I’m asking myself. I shrugged it off with denial and a pride of a Psychology graduate. I was meant to help people, I told myself. I was meant to help them get through and not become one of those trying to get through.

And ever since that day, I was scared. And ever since that day, the thorns grew and grew, not giving enough room for the roses to bloom.