Depression Sets In

Depression sets in, on a disturbing wee hours of a Monday morning. Weekend’s come and gone, and my heart races faster as I run down a list of things I absolutely need to do: more albums for my photography site (the traffic is dwindling), my Thai lessons (why am I still at the 18th lesson), the few e-books that I have downloaded and printed but yet to touch, workout (the 8-minute abs exercise is working fine, but I need to do more), playing the piano (the keyboard is collecting dust again) yet don’t get me started on work. I dread to add anymore. Don’t understand what’s with the constant rush. I stare hard at the ceiling, not a wink of sleep, and worry sick about the fact that I am only here in this world for the tiniest fraction of time, and this me won’t even be around to worry about anything anymore when the time comes. Grab my phone and start a frantic search of phone numbers and SMS’s to delete. I thought I’m liberated, never mind the shivering hands, but each step only make me sink deeper. And it’s ok if my job doesn’t bring me places anymore. I think I’m beginning to enjoy disappointment. It helps manage my expectations, don’t fly too high, don’t venture too far, stay put in my own cocoon of contentment, maybe the pain in my chest will go away. Images of Mum having meals alone, why are these haunting me again? She knows! She finally knows! I peel my finger nails, peel them hard enough to feel the pain, and I recall the last time I feel these piercing emotions, never too long ago, countless ones too, but I don’t remember the last time I cry. In and out of the pit, I’m going crazy.