I’m eyeing my medication, a little nervous and apprehensive on whether I should take it. My therapy has ended, not enough I have fully recovered (even if there is such a thing), but because my therapist is leaving Singapore for a year and I chose to not continue with another.
I had a near attack in the morning, on the bus; it was not so much the gasping for air, but the logic meltdown in my head again, of God and life and death and afterlife, and I nearly exploded inside. The fear grew, though oddly unfamiliar, not because it has not been visiting me (it has), but because it seems to be a different form. I am unsure, and am afraid that this fear would take on not just different mediums, but different forms. I am already afraid of so many things, I can’t even take the train. But I’m so tired…
This fear, however, is different – it does not tie into these reservations. Can I really take a flight, albeit a short one? Can I really have an operation, albeit a minor one? Can I really, really, live, despite all these?
Minor victories are huge. I won’t let myself take one step forward and two steps back. I know I cannot do this alone, but only with God, I can.
ps. Thanks for all the comments for the previous post. I think some of you mistaken that for a negative post. Actually that was a happy post. TV was not a comfort, but rather, a form of ‘medication’ if you know what I mean. For me to be able to survive on non-tv means I cut off that ‘medication’ and survived. =) Thanks for the support, and please continue to read.