I was released from the hospital the next day, with the doctor emphasizing how important it was that I follow her advice and get psychiatric counseling.
Her words felt like a gentle nudge toward potential healing and equilibrium, but they also reminded me of the long, arduous road ahead.
I boarded a taxi and headed to my parents.
I was once more surrounded by the cozy, comforting atmosphere of my family's house. However, there was an unavoidable undertone of bittersweetness that mingled with the memories and feeling of security.
I felt a sharp twinge of dissonance and an uncomfortable sense of being disconnected from my own identity as I looked down at the clothes I was wearing, which Karl had obviously selected with great care.
It was as though I had been shoved into the ill-fitt
