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I was gone for months, away from the hustle and bustle of city life. Away from my family, especially my dad and I was worried in the beginning, but I needed the solitude. I was told it was necessary to check myself to a facility and so I did. I was admitted for depression. No matter how people kept telling me that my emotional condition was not that big, I felt I did the right thing.

I'm now done with it and I've come out a better person as a result. My doctor advised me to continue my online journal as it will help me size up the minor challenges that will come my way once I'm totally out of the facility (I still have sessions once a week, you see).

I'm still uncertain if I'm glad I'm on my own again. World, let me be happy again...

P.S. The day I came home was also the day when I received the news that a close friend of mine lost a good friend in New York. She was devastated to know that her friend got shot for no apparent reason while serving at a local pharmacy. Tragic. I'd like to think that I got myself in a better place to be able to comfort my friend. Down with senseless crimes!