BACK TO THE BEGINNING.

Source

I felt her presence before I heard her voice,

"Lydia, what's the problem?"

Lying down on my side, my back to the door, I tried to muffle my sobs but she still noticed. The thought of getting my own bedroom strikes me again.

"No. I'm fine." My voice is nasal because of how long I'd been suppressing the sobs, all for nothing.

I hear her open her mouth but I beat her to it.

"Not now Mom. Please. Just leave me alone."

And she does. The mattress is anything but comfortable against my skin. Right now, I'm questioning the very bane of my existence. More tears flow and it's like a river in here. What do I do? Because I feel totally helpless. Jeez. Where did I go wrong?

Just before the sleep overtakes me, the smell of beans wafts through my nostrils and soon enough, the temperature in the room rises. Yeah. Mom is cooking dinner but I really have no appetite right now. And this heat is sure to roast me alive. Staying in a two room apartment– a living room and one bedroom– with the kitchen very close to the bedroom has it's perks. Heat. Especially with the rising summer temperature.

It feels like a chore to throw myself out of bed. My chest feels totally hollow, my nose stuffy but I don't care. How long has it been since I walked through that door feeling like a total wreck? I don't know.

I only took off my shirt and laid down with my joggers and sports bra, so I just reach for the shirt again– a violet spotted round neck– to throw it back on.

"Where are you going? Dinner is almost ready." My mom's head pokes out of the kichen when she hears me shuffling. I don't miss the look of concern on her face but I can't deal with company right now. Not even my mom.

"I'll be right back." I mutter loud enough for her to hear before opening and shutting the door behind me. The summer breeze meets my face as well as the burning sun. I take out my phone from my pocket to look at the time, my Burberry slides blurred at the background on my sock clad feet.

4:59pm. Only. Yeah. I should have guessed so. The sun is hitting real hard but it's nothing compared to minutes ago– or is it hours?– when I got back. Marching down the steps of our suburb home, I head in a random direction. Well, not so random. I know this place like the back of my hand.

Source

There are no trees, no birds, no scenery just houses and more houses with restless kids and old people. The barking of dogs and occasional hissing of cats.

I nearly scoff outloud when I see Brian headed my way from his usual 3 O'clock run. Really, who goes for a run at three? I suppress the urge to roll my eyes.

I get to a T junction and go right. I need junk food. I know Mom is making dinner but when I'm as depressed as I am now, food just doesn't cut it. Probably why my weight has taken a good 180 degrees for the worst. I look like a sickler with a bulging belly. I almost chuckle as I reach for the snickers and some other random chocolate from the shelf.

"This is the fifth time this week young lady. Are you even having anything to eat?"

Our dear Mrs. Hampton wouldn't let me live my life at all. Her southern drawl is something I like but not when she gives me that pointy look, hazel eyes behind those gold rimmed glasses looking like a detective.

"I'm fine Ma'am. Just a little behind on work." I tell her, avoiding eye contact. My eyes on the lens of the CCTV camera for the what– millionth time? She doesn't move to pack my goods which prompts me to look her square in the eye. I think I might be glaring but the stubborn woman just wouldn't get the message.

"Still haven't been able to get any idea on what to write?" She says, catching me off guard.

"How did you–"

"You seem to forget that your mother and I do talk alot. She's worried about you. Now, I am." She gestures to the portion of sweets.

"She also says you've not been eating well and by the way that shirt hangs off you like an oversized bag on a mopping stick, I have to say it's concerning." Her voice no longer has that edge to it, rather a lovely twang.

"Mrs. Hampton–"

"You're gonna tell me now that it's none of my business, yada yada yada," she rolls her eyes hard, "and how you can manage your life. I have a girl your age young lady. So cut the bullshit."

I'm sure my eyes just left their sockets. Did she just–?

"Oh wow. My mother would sue you for swearing infront of me despite my age." I let out a humorless chuckle.

"She can try." She smiles, her beautiful hazels glimmering under the lights.

"Tell me. How bad is it?" She continues few seconds later.

"Awful." I don't even hesitate. "It's like I lost touch with who I am. I can't even write or come up with anything. I even dread going to work because my colleagues seem to have it all figured out. Meanwhile I just stare at my computer screen with the most clueless look. I may be getting myself fired one of these days." I groan and lean on the counter with my elbow, my hands covering my face. I really don't like my life right now. I used to be so creative, meeting deadlines and being an asset. All of a sudden, I just couldn't anymore. Every trace of the intelligent creature I am seemed to disappear.

Mrs. Hampton's hand on my shoulder feels reassuring and warm.

"Do you think you lost touch with who you are or did you just stop being who you are?"

Huh? I raise my head to look at her.

"What does that mean?"

"Think about it thoroughly and tell yourself the truth. Did you loose touch or you just got too relaxed? When last did you set goals? When last did you review your set goals? When last did you actually read something in your field? When last did you plan your time, days or activities? When last did you interact with people and get help?"

The clogs in my head begin to turn with such speed I think I might faint.

"Oh my God!" I exclaim and all but bang my head against the wooden counter. What the actual heck?

"Easy now." Mrs. Hampton says amidst soft laughter.

"But how did you know?" I raise my head again, I'm sure my black straight hair is looking like a bird's nest but I really don't care right now.

"I didn't. It's something that happened to me when I was younger and it happened to my daughter so I just guessed. And if that wasn't the problem, I'd find a different approach till I hit that snooze button."

I laugh this time and it's not forced. I actually feel relieved.

"Thank you so much Mrs. Hampton. I gotta run." I dash for the door.

"Your sweets!" She calls out.

"Later." I bark and keep running once I'm out the store.

Source

Yes. When last did I go out for runs? When last did I sit to review my life? When last did I leave my comfort zone?

My Mom looks at me with wide eyes when I rush in like a mad woman.

"What's the issue?" Her big green eyes– ones I inherited– are on me. I half-jog-half-walk past her.

"Nothing mom. I'll be out in a sec." But as I get to our bedroom, I turn back around and go to her. Before she could open her mouth to ask, I give her a loud kiss on the cheek.

"I love you Mom."

She legit blushes, making me burst out in laughter at the clueless look on her face before going to sort out my life once more within the confines of our bedroom.