Gemotions

The nurse's voice was a soothing balm, explaining the treatment plan. But all Amelia could do was stare at the file in her hands. *Major Depressive Disorder*. She considered herself a happy person, full of joy and enthusiasm, loved by many. She laughed, she sang, she lived. The room seemed too bright, too loud.

Her vision blurred, and the words on the file danced before her eyes. The idea of being given a diagnosis was like a foreign language, and nothing felt real. She felt like she was trapped in an absurd play, and the script was all wrong.