What a fucking bad morning it had been.

I have made a total of 3 trips to the toilet to bawl my fucking eyes out.

It’s 1pm.

At least, I feel functional now.

Thank goodness.



chapter 2 – hello again


Why you gotta revisit my ass when I’m working and trying to set my life up for bigger things?

At times like this I wished I can be like any other normal human beings, like those in my close proximity, who fall ill with flu or fever, take a sick day, pop some pills and then be back in full gear, working, grinding.

Because, I can’t take a sick day because I’m feeling like “utter piss in my brain” or “wanting to kill someone with myself on the top of the list”. Neither do I want to go back to the Prozacs, the Xanaxs which will work but leave me bedridden for 2 weeks, a non-functioning blob under the blankets.

Yesterday, I felt a lift in my mood for the first time in a long month and that was when the burst of productivity came, goals set, plans planned. But today, I’m back in the ditches again, confused, helpless, playing victim, being everything I hate about myself.

But new chapter. This is the part of the narrative when I live through the relapse, beat the shit out of it and gain an arsenal to prepare myself for the next one.




I will do what I feel is right, work for what I want, control what I can within my means. If the universe says “nah” I’ll move on into other pastures, and be so grateful about what I have in my life.

Condom challenge except it was anxiety/depression hugging my face like a wet glove.