I stared at the beige walls again. These walls that are so bland. I see myself in a reflection on the wall. I haven’t seen myself in a year. As the mirror pushes its way through the bland beige walls that surround me I feel frightened. I can’t see myself in this situation. I haven’t spoken to anyone in a year. I haven’t left this room in a week. I can not see myself in my current position. Why must life curse me like this? Why must there be human interaction? Why must there be others? The mirror is now in full view; I see myself in the mirror and I cannot even recognize who I’ve become. This delusional recluse who slowly pushed away every single person he knows. Why did I push them away? Why did I not believe they could help me? Why must it be this way? What did I do to deserve this? Why did I push myself down into this Hell? Once I realize my faults and start to chant them out, the mirror slowly fades away. The mirror was not there to harm me as I thought it would. The mirror was there to make me realize what I have done and who I have become. I sit on the floor in absolute shock. My arms have become so thin. How long have I been here? The thought of reality kicks back in and I realize even further of what I have seemed to become. The problem now is how do I get the people I pushed away back? Now that I have come to the realization that everything I have done in the near past was detrimental to my sanity the question is, “who can I turn to?” That is when I look back at the wall. The mirror starts to sink back into the bland beige walls. I stare at it and right before it leaves I thank it. Now, I am here, alone, wondering what my next move to possible happiness may be. I turn towards the white door. I open the door and with it I open my eyes from the sleep I was drowning in. “Was this all a sick dream,” I say as I look towards the wall and see the mirror and the man who has sunk so low into dissociation.