"And how do you feel?"
I focused on the geometric pattern in the carpet to stop the manic laugh from escaping my lips at the absurd cliche. He adjusted his spectacles further up his nose, waiting patiently for my answer. "Well," he pressed after some time. "Well," I began "Some days I feel completely normal. Some days I feel like my skin is painfully melting off my body and all that's left of me is a skeleton, wandering around, searching for a life that doesn't want it. Some days I don't feel at all." "And how do you feel right now?" "Honestly," I met his gaze, "I feel like I want to die."