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Imagine you're sitting on a plastic-covered couch smoking a cigarette. It's sterile. White walls, name tags, scrubs.

The hole scene. Your mother sits next to you, legs crossed, nervously shaking her foot. You hate when she does that.

A blonde man in a white Coke covering a dirty blue knockoff polo sits down across from you with a stack of forms.

He looks concerned or non-plussed. Your mind's still a little foggy, so it's hard to know exactly what's going on.

How much have you had to drink? I don't know. You put out your cigarette, but you don't feel comfortable without something in your hand.

So you light up another an answer. Half a case of beer maybe more. So you're drunk. Of course not. I don't drink. He cucks an eyebrow.

Jesus, one of those guys who can't take a joke. Let's get through with questions, honey. Do you smoke marijuana? You roll your eyes.

Doesn't everyone have you snorted coaking? Sure. Your mother gasps like some kind of church lady you glare at her.

When her eyes are obscured by dark sunglasses, what a drama queen is if anyone would recognize her. The tech keeps going, asking you how often you drink, what times of days, who you drink with, do you ever drink alone.

That's a good one. Does alone count if you're in a room full of people and you sneak into the bathroom and slam down a beer?

The attendant stands up in motions to you. That's your sign to get up and follow him down the hall. Fine, you could use a nap anyway.

At least you don't have to sit here with your mother. She'll be back soon enough with her holier than thou lectures. You'll give her the silent treatment or the screaming treatment and you'll be wasted again before dark.

You don't even look back at her as you shuffle down the hall. He shows you a room with a single bed. The bed has restraints. That scares you a little.

But the attendant doesn't seem inclined to strap you in. Instead, he hends you a blanket. It smells like lint.

Get some rest. I'll be back in two hours. Will my mom be back then? No, honey. Your mom's gone. You're here for the long home.

Then he turns off the lights and closes the doors, leaving you alone. So she just abandoned you here? And definitely? A wave of anxiety grabs you around the throat. It's so strong you can't breathe.

Finally, you lay down and wait for sleep.

From Wondry, I'm Virginia Madsen and this is Imagine Life.

On each episode of Imagine Life, we take you on an immersive journey into the life of someone you may think you know, maybe even admire. Or the opposite. But no one realizes what it felt like to be them before the whole world knew their name.

You will experience the challenges, the heart breaks, the loss, and the triumph. There will be clues to your identity along the way. Only at the end do we reveal who you are.

So sit back, let go, and imagine your life.

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