I haven’t been writing for months. Haven’t been reading either.
I haven’t seen many of my friends, even though I vowed to spend more time being with people and not just in transactional meetings.
I am wondering again if I will ever make it – not knowing what “it” is.
I am unravelling, feeling like I cannot hold myself together anymore, questioning the meaning of everything I do, and panicking about finances and the future.
I cannot get up in the mornings, choosing to force myself back to sleep and hide under the covers.
I forget to eat proper food, though manage to drag my unwilling self to do some stretching and swim 2 laps.
I watch DVDs (yes I’m super old-fashioned) and not really watch it, but use the screen to deny my reality for about two hours.
I see everything I do as purposeless, and unable to touch or sense my impact.
I have lost friends, de-friended some, and pushed others away.
I sit too much. I choose to slouch on the sofa instead of practising calligraphy.
It is a strange space where time stands still, and I hoover between being alive and being dead.
10 years ago I was at the same mental and emotional cross roads, desperately looking for a lifeline, as if an MBA might save me from self-destruction. 10 years later, I hold on to Bearapy as if this will catapult me into importance and significance.
Seeing myself, I am amused and bittered. I am proud and disappointed. I laugh and I cry at the same time. Do I not see the signs so clear in front of me? This same loop that told me something had to change 10 years ago, is back again to nudge me to stop rushing around because my body and mind have plunged over the edge. A decade ago, I could blame ignorance. Today, I cannot. Yet, I still choose wilful ignorance.
Is 10 years not enough to come to terms with my mediocrity?
Everything I learnt about myself 10 years ago after the major depressive episode has eluded me. I have not learnt. I have driven myself to the same outcomes that I had wanted to avoid. All that “transformative” work and “self-awareness” reflection I had done have taken flight, or maybe they have fought each other dead as paradoxes combust and desires burn.
28 to 38 years old, I have not learnt a single thing. Welcome to reality, illusion, avoidance, truth, and delusion.
Same loop. Happy birthday to me.
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