He knew it was his only way out—but he was terrified.
Once inside, the doctor spoke frankly:
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“You know, your problem isn’t that unusual,” the doctor said.
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“Yeah… but I just can’t control myself,” he replied.
The doctor explained that he had Anxiety and Depression Disorder.
It wouldn’t be easy—but it was treatable.
He was told to take small steps:
Write his thoughts.
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Exercise.
Avoid isolation.
With time, a faint light started to seep into his life.
Things weren’t perfect—but they were improving.
His old friend reached out again.
The elderly neighbor? He just wanted to help.
Even the darkness in his apartment started to lift.
In the end, he told himself:
“I’m not okay yet… but that doesn’t mean I’ll never be.”
At night, he started having a recurring dream.
He was in a dark room with only one locked door.
Each time he tried to open it, he failed.
Then a voice whispered:
"You haven't seen what's inside you."
He woke up feeling like the dream was telling him something.
So he wrote it down in his notebook, just like the doctor advised.
But fear held him back.
Every time he asked himself why, one answer always echoed:
"Look... we don’t know why. But you have anxiety and depression—a whole mess inside. If you keep asking why, you’ll never find peace."
That phrase felt like a painkiller… one that never really worked.