Another day of walking the streets searching for what I didn't know. So it was that day, October 7. Walking along the Paseo Las Delicias in the city of Maracay was supposed to offer me a scenery that should offer calm, and peace to my soul, but it only accentuated my anguish.

My mind, my true enemy, would not stop spinning in a spiral, trapping me in thoughts I could not turn off. It was a swarm of bees buzzing inside me. And though I was just a mortal to some, beneath that calm appearance I was fighting a battle.

I had no control over anything. I had tried everything: counseling, therapy, escapes to the beach in search of peace. However, every time I closed my eyes, I was beset by questions. What was wrong with me? What was the meaning of my life?

What was clear was that I felt an emptiness that was expanding every day, suffocating me and no one seemed to notice. Family and friends looked at me with eyes full of pity, others thought it was my antics and the comments that abounded were: “he is sick in the head, he should be admitted to an institution”.

Hearing that terrified me and at the same time I cared little, I was already locked up, not in a hospital, but in my mind. The invisible walls around me were as high and thick as those of any institution, and worst of all, I was the jailer.

At first, I had tried to find a reason for my distress. I looked for answers in self-help books, in motivational talks, and even in conversations with strangers, but nothing worked. Meanwhile, my family members were convinced that I should be locked up for my safety, but they were only thinking of themselves. I think they were terrified because they didn't know how to help. It seemed easier for them to think that I was broken than to look for a solution. I for one decided to stay away from them, they didn't want anything good for me.

That morning, as I was in my constant walking, seeking refuge in solitude. A blow of a cold breeze made me raise my gaze, which had been making furrows on the sidewalk for a while. I thought it was someone in front of me, but there was no one. I crossed the avenue and turned into a street, but that feeling that I was being watched did not leave me. Something that I did notice was that I could no longer hear the sound of birds, nor the noise of leaves flying in swirls, no cars were passing by, and no pedestrians could be seen. But still, someone or something was near me or rather was in me. The sensation was as real as the ground I was walking on and I knew it was impossible to escape it.

A suffocation appeared forcing me to stop. With my hands trembling I leaned against the wall of an old abandoned house. At that very moment, two ladies appeared out of nowhere. I thought it was more of the same, a trick of my mind. But it wasn't. One of them touched my forehead. One of them touched my forehead and spoke to me sweetly. Her tender voice invited me to walk a few meters to a chapel attached to a tiny welfare center. I accepted and accompanied them.

As I crossed the gate of the building, for the first time in a long time, I felt a flash of clarity. It wasn't a definitive answer, but it was something magical that made me sigh. Other people there greeted me, invited me to sit down, and indicated that some doctors would attend to me. I was in bad shape and they had noticed it.

A doctor, a very pretty one, took me by the arm with her soft hands and reassured me. Then she asked me: what I was feeling, what I was suffering from, what was wrong with me. I burst into tears and told her that I wanted to die, that I could not stand the chains in my mind. The doctor listened to each of my words and by the time I finished crying and talking, she hugged me and said: you are not going to die, you are going to live, we are going to free you from that prison.

Several hours passed, I don't know how many, but in each one of them what I felt was love exported by those beautiful people. By the end of the afternoon, I was no longer overwhelmed, I could breathe well, they did not have the torment in my head and I was full of hope. I was told to come back the next day and a few more days because a specialist would see me, he would listen to everything I had to say. I thought: at last, I found someone who understood what was happening to me. The doors of happiness were just around the corner.

The next few days were blissful, I found freedom and was able to transform myself into a man with a destiny, and a life mission. My family was educated about what had happened and what the future held.

In that small building, I had entered a fearful, hopeless man, only to leave with a purpose: to face myself and assume who I was to achieve happiness.

Author's Note:
Sometimes the same family is unaware that one of its members is broken and it is a third person who discovers it and helps him. It is imperative to be more consistent with our own to avoid unpleasant and even fatal consequences.