Sunday, May 27, 2007
Letters
When I feel terribly depressed, I usually write down whatever I'm feeling on any piece of paper. It's an efficient form of release,and I like the thought of being accidentally reminded of my past worries.
Lately, I've been having those late night anxiety attacks again, and just last week I cried myself to sleep. If everything goes down to choosing between fight or flight, then I can say I am most definitely a flight person. I always choose to take the easy way out. But these days, I am reminded that I can't run away from it all forever.
Below is something I wrote at the back of my school planner, dated February 26, 2007. This may seem to be just one of your troubled-teen musings but this one sums up my state of mind right now. I seriously think I need help, but I am still debating (with myself) if this is really serious or just a petty juvenile drama.
There's this certain weariness from the past few days, seemingly filling up the void and channelling a faint spark of zeal. This never-ending cycle of oblivion and warmth, of panic and comfort, gives me something to look forward to, but the regrets keep coming back. There is the knowing that one must learn to face the consequences of the following days, but the promise of childhood whimsies- turning back time- proves to be more appealing. Hours spent in prayers, days wasted in wishful thinking. Is it all for the better? Is it all for the truth? They have torn you apart , and you have triumphed over your own fragments. Now comes the time to embrace your enemies, to let go and let grow, but as always, your heart aches for home.Learn how to sting.Learn how to fucking sting.I really want to know if something's wrong with me, and to some extent I am wishing that something's wrong with me- at least that would give me an excuse to feel this way. I feel like I'm being surrounded by people I can't trust. That's why I chose to stay at home the entire summer, and if I had my choice, I would want to stay home forever.
I can't bear the thought of having to be with people who hate me, with people who are dishonest. This is driving me crazy. I've been dying to talk about this to my mother but I just can't get myself to talk of something specific. I know understands, but do I?
xxmimose
Labels: anxiety attacks, depression
C h i n i k a n i M i m o s e n u n g b a n d a n g 8:30 PM
