You once asked me...

...'How did we get here?'. And I had the answer straight away because I could never forget.

It was the first week of 2011 and the year hadn't started off the way I thought it would. I saw 2011 as my turning point. But nothing happened. I had trouble with university, or the lack there of, my A'levels and my dependency on Mother. I was in a funk, a depression. I wasn't supposed to be here, you see. I should have been in Japan loving or hating it. My room should have been empty.

In the beginning, I'd wake up everyday at 11am: have a bath, go downstairs and sit in the chair closest to the adaptor. I felt nothing so I said nothing. I was tired and sad and at that moment I wanted to be by myself. Unfortunately, all of you were home for the holidays. I wanted out... I couldn't breathe. Nurse was revising at the time and after having sat through three days of it your voice was like nails on a blackboard - I couldn't bare it. You remember, Nurse, you sat in the adjacent three-seater (which was her chair), and Mother was in the single beside me. Mami, you came down late so you got the floor, you were pregnant then, and we used to laugh about how you were having twins cos you were showing so early. I had to get away from you all and crawl into my bed and sleep because that was all I could think of doing that would help. As I got up I remember Mami asking me if I was going up to study and I said yes. What I was really thinking was "Whatever makes you happy. I can tell you'd prefer to sit on a chair so, enjoy".

I slept that day. I didn't eat or drink. I remember Mother poking her head in to ask what was wrong, and I remember thinking that you didn't really want to know, that maybe this was more of a formality for you. I told you I was tired and you were happy to leave it at that. I slept the next day. I ate a little. No one came to my room.

I started my A'level revision soon after, but I stopped going downstairs and I hardly ate. I thought about going to the Doctor but I was unsure and I couldn't will myself to go.

What upset me most was that you were all so willing to accept that 'she was just upstairs in her room and would come out when she felt like it wasn't our place to interfere'. I wanted someone to talk to; someone I could tell that I felt stuck and isolated and a failure. I needed someone to poke their head in my door and ask if I was okay. Someone to know me well enough to know that me saying I was okay was a lie. I wanted someone to sit at the edge of my bed while I lay in it. I wanted you to eventually ask me again what was wrong. But you never did. And having me as the absentee family member seemed to work for you guys. So I stayed upstairs and I studied and slept and ate...sometimes. And after a while it was like I was never there.