One of the supposed perks of moving away from home and staying by yourself (figuratively, flatmates never quite equate to family) is that you are given the freedom to do whatever the hell you want, whenever the hell you want. To me however as I've learned from being away from home this few years, it also means the freedom to fall deeper into whatever psychological abyss one had carved out. It means the freedom to fuck up your life, and the freedom to stay in bed all day and be depressed, because there is no one there to come and ease you out and back into the land of the living.
I am deathly afraid of the freedom that has been accorded to me, especially now upon returning to London (at least the weather is cheery today).
Last night I fell into a deep distress when I woke up (jetlag and stomach problems) and could not get back to sleep. After a call from my mother, and a skype call with my father after, I managed to fall back to sleep and woke up at about 9am today. Truly there is nothing that can beat the love and comfort of one's parents.
For all of you out there, no matter what deity you believe in, please pray for me. I have never fallen into such a deep well before, and need all the strength and love I can muster to pull myself out.
1 comment:
I hope you can move pass this and find happiness. I'll keep you in my thoughts. Just remember there are people out there who care. We're all run through this same filter.
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