‘Ok, I’m here. Now what?’ I thought as I looked around the empty room. There was a door at far end with a light peaking through its outline. Was I supposed to open it? What would happen if I didn’t open it? What if, instead, I chose to spend the rest of my life in this empty room. I could fill it, you know. I could fill it with love and affection and hopes and dreams that will never be. I could grow old here. I would grow bitter here. Or maybe I wouldn’t. I don’t know. I would fail. I know that. I fail at everything now. This is who I am. I wasn’t this person who failed. But that’s because I was someone who never tried. Once I started trying I only failed. It was very disconcerting. It was contradictory to what I’d expected. You see, because I’d never tried before I thought that I’d always succeeded, but I hadn’t. I’d just gotten by. So, I thought I was doing great when I was doing nothing. Once I started doing something everything went wrong. All the time. I stumbled. I fell. I cried. I cut myself. I let myself bleed out until the very last moment when I felt too guilt to go through with it. So, I patched myself up again and tried something else. I stumbled again. I fell again. I cried. I cut myself. I let myself bleed out. A little less this time because the guilt came on faster. I patched myself up and tried something else. I stumbled. I fell. I cried. I wanted to cut myself. I stopped myself from cutting. I failed. I cut myself. I let myself bleed out longer than ever before. I thought I would go through to the other side this time but the guilt came on before I could succeed. I patched myself up and tried something else. I succeeded. I felt happy. I laughed. I loved. I got bored. I wanted more. I went after it. I failed. I stumbled. I fell. I cried. I reached out to cut myself. I stopped. I picked myself up and tried something else. And that’s when I arrived at this room. It seemed ominous. It seemed like something remarkable was about to happen. It felt like my entire life depended on whether I chose this room or walked to that door on the opposite side. I took a step. I stumbled. I fell. I cried. I dismissed any thoughts of cutting myself. I sat. I stared. I breathed. I looked at the door on the other side. I looked back at where I came from. The door was closed but it radiated warmth and comfort. The door ahead radiated… nothing… or maybe something unfamiliar. Ok, so here I am, sitting on the floor, now what?