Gemotions

He held the file, his hands clammy. “Severe depression and anxiety,” the records declared. The name at the top was his. But the information felt alien, a strange reflection of someone else's pain. He'd gone in for a sports injury.

He found himself overly polite to every person he passed, trying to overcompensate for the shadow now cast upon his life. The laughter of strangers grated on his nerves. He began to question his own mental state, wondering if there was truth to the false record.

His apartment felt like a prison. He canceled his gym membership. He felt a constant, nagging need to prove something, anything, to anyone who might be watching. He felt like an imposter.