There are days when the waves of sorrow engulf me and the heaviness drags me to the bottom of the blue ocean.

I drag myself out of the bed and try to live the day as normal as I could, but the heaviness is still there, sitting on my chest, making it difficult to breathe. At other times, it is the palpitations–palpitations not because of coffee, but of unexplainable dread–that causes the dyspnea. The anxiety attack is triggered by an unpleasant memory of a significant other, and lasts for a few minutes to as long as 10 minutes. I am usually alone in these periods and trying to calm one’s self in such a state is a near-impossible task.

Sometimes the heaviness is found at the pit of my stomach, making me nauseous, and unable to eat. Sometimes, I vomit in the morning and several times in a day.

Sometimes I hide my trembling hands at work and feign concentration. I forget things. My quality of work declines. Things and people become exhausting. Sleep then becomes solace, where the burden goes away temporarily. But sometimes sleep does not come, and the painful memories from the past haunt me. The longer I stare at the abyss, the more I get sucked into its darkness.

These can go on for days. While most will know nothing was amiss,  one or two will notice. Some will say kind words and give me their warm embrace, while some will keep silent and pretend everything is normal.

Sometimes I could go back to the surface without help. Sometimes I need a lot of help. The struggle will always be there but I try to fight. Because even if the world is cruel, there is still so much beauty and so much to do and experience.


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