Dawning

It's 5.22am, the second day of what I can only describe as a sanctuary period. I am hiding, delusional, refusing to come out of my own little world. After yesterday's breakdown, a few things dawned on me.

What my doctors call 'anxiety' cannot be separated from despair. My anxiety induced something tremulous, like fear, only less pronounced. Like some mirror flaking with rust, it slowly put me in a state of despair and because that despair was suffered quietly - alone - for so long a time, it made me anxious about life and love. This loneliness is also loveless insofar as I couldn't be honest with anyone about my feelings. Even when I talked to Xue Wen and couzzie, the words did not come easily. It is hard for neatly defined words to match vague, confused emotion, but sometimes I simply did want to verbalise the same sentiments that have been repeated over and over and over again. I simply wanted them to hold my hand, just to be with my when I cried.

They were the only two souls who softened every blow with a touch of humane tenderness. It's not as if I wanted a romantic sort of love, just one that gave the noun 'friend' all its warmth and preciousness. I always strive to be strong and independent but it's obvious there will be times when I can't rise up again without some help. A broken crutch cannot mend itself. That's why I need them. They provide a softer, gentler kind of love that my male buddies cannot provide. Indeed, they fail to grasp the issue and pontificate with ineffectual goodwill. Their failure to respond constructively only made it worse because - well, it's worse when you're alone in a crowd.

It's not their fault, I think. But I blame them for their callousness because it hurt me so badly. That's why I turn to Xue Wen and couzzie and only them. XW doesn't pretend like she knows while couzzie actually does - both will sit with me and talk, and listen, and simply be with me. Their company is as precious as their words, but the buddies don't see that.

I'm scared of falling back into despair, yet I realise a breakdown is the only way to purge this terror. I suppose I do want to break down but only if there's someone holding my hand as well. But they have their own lives too and I must wait till they're free. In the meantime, I hide myself in an insular world where everything is filtered and censored in self-defense. I also eat, for the warmth in my tummy and flavour in my mouth is soothing, somehow.

It's 5.45am. In 15 minutes the world will make up and buzz about their business, but not I. I will stay on the internet and hide myself in that world where no one knows what's truly authentic and what's not. I will indulge in fiction till I am worn, then I shall take my pills and sleep as the sun passes over, waking only to go online again. This is my insular life, one that I shall stay in until this storm passes over and the warm hearts that care for me give me sanctuary and rest in their loving care.

With incoherent thoughts and sentiments,
Me