Thoughts.

I'm beginning to feel like writing is not even an option anymore. I've lost all my passion and interest in everything. I know I'm spiraling downwards and the emotional rollercoaster ride is a torture. I do put in effort to lead a more fulfilling life, but somehow the meaning to the word 'living' is no where to be found.

Bad things happened recently. First was about my job's security - I'd tendered. And then was a very bad fall down the stairs and now with a bad painful tailbone injury. And then a cut on my finger while washing a butter knife. I am lucky I have people around me to care and listen to me. I also try to stay positive and take the negative thoughts out of my mind by doing some gardening (yes, I'm now planting chilli, basil, and also a plant I brought back specially from my mom's ancestral home in Taiwan). I also keep myself busy, planning to paint for some parts of the walls, and decorating the place more following a visit by the Geomancer.

I now see Dr Fones on a monthly basis. Even towards him, I do not share as much I should be, maybe because of the 'face' factor, or the 'deadly' training I've had in varsity days, and lets me pick up signs naturally. Every symptom I tell him sounds unreal, like I've been observing someone else instead of myself, as one would think that a person with depression should not know what him or herself is going through. But for me, I have full insights. I know. Except that there are many occasions which I cannot control them, like crying.

I've been crying much more than before. While I should have a more stable mood now after 2 months of medication, the funny thing is the melancholic feeling persists. Unlike what many would think of a depressed person, I still take care of my skin, dress appropriately and make up each time I'm out of my house. But whenever I'm home, alone, thoughts attacked me and I get all holed up once more.

Christmas is coming. I am trying to fill myself with busy activities like buying a live Christmas Tree, decorating it up (my first time), Christmas shopping and gift wrapping (my favourite). But as much as I list down what to get for who, I realise there is very few people I am buying presents for this year. And that saddens me.

This time last year, I was busy with buying for the department. I was also excited about a trip I longed for with the one I love. But now, this time, I am alone, and without a job. What a 180degree change.

I don't know what the future will hold, for I have given up hoping. There are so many things inside me I wish I can share with someone. But I fear of being an emotional burden. I don't know how should I express myself.

I long for peace. The peace where it is permanent. Where I no longer worry about what happens, what can I do, why evil people exist.