it was like holding my breath for 2.5 months, on tiptoes, fearing that had i exhaled i’ll lose grip. and turning blue, i had to let go. take another breath, that i may continue to survive, go about life, and pretend that all’s well. true to my fears, i exhaled, and slumped in exhaustion. i lost grip, the hold on my life. my inhibitions went up in smoke.
i did it again. i fell flat. and i have no bearings as to what tripped me. it is extremely unnerving, to not know what the trigger is. i remain dulled, unable to feel deeply- or even slightly- the emotions that once made me feel more human. more alive. i was asked again and again, why. none of the doctors in the hospital could comprehend why i would be so mutilating.
coming out of the brief hospital stay, i remain terribly dulled. my psychiatrist was painfully honest- i was going to be better off staying in the psychiatric ward at this present point of time. it’s always about my safety. of course i didn’t agree to it. we talked at length, as i tried to inhale as deeply as i can, secretly wishing that by doing so i’d have everything in hand again. but every breath was a half-hearted attempt unconsciously.
i don’t know how long this mess will remain.