I can't believe it's here. After so much waiting, anxiety, repression, depression and self-censorship, it is here. There have been times where I wanted to write something on this space, where I thought everything was possible, and I could pen down everything that I wanted. But at some point, it became difficult, very difficult. Each time I wanted to chronicle something, though unrelated to this seed of anxiety, it's like opening a Pandora box. I constantly got reminded for what could have happened, and it was always about the ultimate worst-- imagining how I was going to go about things, to rectify the situation, to cover it up, to quit something which appeared to have lost its luster. It was hard, really hard.
There was a time where I actually thought of living dangerously, that I would do whatever I wanted to do and regret about the repercussions, should they arise, afterward. To regret over something I have done, instead of to regret something I wished I had the balls to do. However, now I see the sweet taste of living a life prudently. It does not necessarily mean that there will be fewer battles to fight, just that one has got to choose their own battles prudently-- select those which are really worth fighting in. The waiting, the anxiety, the repression, the depression and whatnots, they are not worth it. Guess this is what being mature is all about: it is not simply suck it up when shit happens, but it's about laying out expectations, weeding out the ones which are unrealistic, and to fight hard and die hard in meeting those expectations. Being mature is about knowing oneself enough, so that one does not disappoint anybody because having experienced it once is more than what a human soul could endure.
I thank God for letting me off the hook this time. As cliched as it may be, at the toughest times, when comfort food just doesn't do it for me anymore, it was really that blind faith that kept me away from clinical care. Thank you. God is good.
