[ WP ] You 've been horribly depressed for as long as you can remember . Your life is falling apart . A week ago , an experimental treatment has been announced that lets depression sufferers face their sickness . You are among the few that have been selected for the first human trials .

When everything is black, I feel neither warm nor cold. I hear nothing, I think nothing, I taste and smell nothing. For a brief period in time, I feel suspended in this nothingness, and without even considering my options, I know that I am okay with this moment. This moment is hugely relieving compared to what I've been feeling lately, overwhelmed with darkness, with sadness. I'm okay with the silence... the emptiness. I'm okay with the blank slate that it seems I have become. I'm okay with the darkness being kept at bay for now. I'm *okay.*.. At least until three quick, high pitched *beep* sounds penetrate this other world I've been absorbed in, forcing my eyes to open and my heartbeat to quicken. 
 
 The earth presents itself at my feet and slowly I become aware of my surroundings, though there is n't a whole lot to note at the moment. The floor, the walls, the ceiling, everything is white. Not eggshell white either, they're *white*. The way the light bounces and reflects off everything is offensive to my vision and I find myself pressing my eyelids shut before I can even make sense of the scene around me. 
 
 `` It's too bright,'' I call out, wondering if they can even hear me. Slowly I allow my eyelids to flutter open, hoping to grow accustomed to my luminous surroundings. So far I've managed only to become nearly blinded, I'm not feeling entirely confident in this whole procedure. As the sensitivity to the light fades, I begin to look around. I am in a large white room, light is coming in from somewhere though I could n't tell you where if you asked me. There's nothing noteworthy about any of this, really, and I find myself regretting signing up for this trial. 
 
 `` Okay, Ms. Tellard, are you ready?'' A soft female voice emanates from nowhere, I ca n't pinpoint it but she almost sounds like she's in my head. I nod my head to signify my agreement. It only takes a few seconds, but I felt like I stood there for ages. There is a wet slapping sound as a giant drop of black liquid appears to fall from the sky and hits the ground before me. I clumsily step back, watching in horror as the goo bubbles and oozes, stretching and solidifying in some places. The once-liquid begins to stretch up, taking a form. It looks as though it's growing arms. *Oh God, * I curse myself for signing up for this. I ca n't help but imagine what sort of disgusting monster I'll find before me once this abomination completes its transformation. 
 
 I watch in horror as the black goo takes on a human form before me. First arms, then slowly I see legs... Then a head. For a brief moment it looks just like a black mannequin, but then it continues to stretch and grow, to complete its transformation. It begins to look more and more human, the black fades in some places, darkens in others. It's a female, I know that much. Suddenly, features become visible and the smallest of details are etched into the hardening goo. It's no longer a menacing, faceless creature... It's me. 
 
 When I read about these trials, about facing the physical manifestation of ones depression, I never thought it would look like this. The Doctors and their assistants gave us binder after binder full of theories, studies, notes and hypotheses. They gave us a very good idea of what to expect, or so I thought. I heard of one of the girls having to face her abusive alcoholic stepdad in her session, at least in her mind anyway. One of the guys told me that his first session was filled with the faceless voices of all the kids in his highschool whose heckling and `` just messing around'' with him made his desire to live all but disappear. These are exactly the types of things I'd expect to find in my session. My Mother in one of her drunken fits of rage perhaps, or maybe my rapist. I thought for sure I could count on finding myself face to face with him, considering how rapidly I spiralled down after he took my innocence from me. 
 
 Never in a million years did I think that by signing up for these trials, by agreeing to explore the possibilities behind facing a cognizant version of my depression, and going nose to nose with the person who I hate most, that I'd find none other than myself staring back at me. 
 

