Hospitals mean Death

One spring evening, I sat in a special grieving room at a hospital with my family. It is where they put you away from everyone else. Everyone was crying while we were waiting for my neice’s death. We knew it was coming, we just didn’t know how long it would take. We sat for hours crying in despair. After the death came, we cried all the way home. I immediately blocked the whole event from my mind and returned to college. I never allowed myself to think of the death again. I had to return to a normal life with full concentration on college and work. I literally never allowed myself to think about it again. Much, much later, visiting a friend in another town, we went to a hospital to visit her friend. I had to run out of the hospital because I felt I couldn’t breathe. I was dizzy and nauseated, and couldn’t figure out why. When I got outside in the fresh air, my body immediately returned to normal, but I started crying. I couldn’t figure out why I was crying, until I finally remembered the last time I had been in a hospital. I cried for an hour. I have never cried about it again; however, I cannot go into a hospital to this day. I feel  immediately like someone is going to die and I get this panicked feeling all over my body. I associate hospitals with death, and remember every detail of the despair I felt all over my body, my mind unable to function, and hopelessness deep in my soul. So, I avoid them no matter what.

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