A Quest;looking for gods

The next time she incarnated was the life she ended.

She was born and named Chrysalis by a middle class family comprising of a white father and a black mother. They met in apartheid South Africa and lived in England until 1996, when they returned with their eight year old daughter and soon after had a son.

Chrysalis had been a quiet child, an unobtrusive teenager and a solitary adult. Dutifull to her family and meticulous at work, no one would have thought her depressed you the point of suicide.

Her life had been as perfect as a life on earth could be expected to be without the intervention of fairy godmothers genies,but Chrysalis always had a wish, the first thing she remembered as a child blowing out her birthday candles was wishing for someone.

Not knowing who she missed her heart ached everyday.

If she had not been a carbon copy of her mother with, her paternal grandmother's green eyes, she would've been tempted to think she had been kidnapped from her real mother and that is the unnamed person she so longed for.

She never told anyone how she felt, she knew the feeling was unreasonable, so she buried it,and that set off a sense of deja vu so profound she would shake everytime.

So she lived, and waited. When her brother and his wife welcomed their first child ,she felt certain that she was right in her plan.

Her parents were still together, they had a grandchild and probably would have more in the future,nobody would need her.

She had never been able to make meaningful connections with other people, so she had never had friends and dating had been the most colossal waste of time and energy. It wasn't that she had crippling social anxiety, or couldn't talk to people. She was quite engaging and interesting and could make conversation with anyone on a wide variety of subjects. She just couldn't be bothered to, the feeling that she was talking to one dimensional stick-people who had no relevance in her life, or awareness of just how insipid they were would disgust her into aloofness.

You would thing that she isolated herself,she didn't. She lived her life behind a mask of polite distance and got classed as an introvert by civil people and a snob by the not-so-civil.

After her 35th birthday, having said goodbye to everyone she loved,with her finances in order, her will updated, she killed herself by taking fifty six tablets of amytreptiline, which she had been hoarding from her monthly prescription amongst her treatment for Seasonal Affective Disorder, recently diagnosed.

Getting that diagnosis was already such a hassle.

She was a highly intelligent, high functioning, well adapted adult without familial history of mental health issues or personal prior history of mental health issues. She had no significant history of trauma (leaving the country you were born in to be raised in another apparently didn't count).

On paper, through indepth observation, she had no reason to claim to be struggling in any sphere of her life, she just had to be a little more outgoing that's all. Even her blood work came back normal, no hormonal imbalances to suggest clinical depression

There really had been no way for her to escape the oppressive feeling of despair.