Six months of missing out on world events, being involved with friends, losing all my thoughts and opinions, realising that my words and thoughts mean nothing, since the public audience don't seem to miss me or any of my contributions.
Of course, there's always friends around to remind me that I mean the world to them and they've been very supportive until the very end. I know that, and everyone around me has been telling me that.
But I can't let go. I can't let go of the fact that I lost something that would have defined me really well in the future, I can't let go of the fact that the drastic event that left me catching up on life has happened. While everyone seemed to slowly recognise the changes that occured, it becomes drastic to me because I have not been informed of such changes.
I'm still feeling a lot of anger and resentment over what has happened, yet nobody can be wholly blamed for what happened. It was a mixture of a bad dream and a nightmare that I still cannot recover from, no matter how many times I reassure myself, as I was closed off from the world in that six months, that I will emerge okay.
It's only been a week since I finally got out, and although I'm glad to resume my life, I also know that it's never going to be the same again.
I really just want to go and get my life back again, resuming my dreams of studying abroad, not being stuck here nursing my health.
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