Home

On 5 of October 2008, I left home for the very first time. I have never left home for more than 2 weeks and this time I am leaving it for 156 weeks. I so believed that after 156 weeks away from home, I will come home with a better future. A friend of mine is desperately trying to get away. And many of my friends believe that future is brighter elsewhere than home. They have given up the hope that the land which they are born into will be any better for them or even for their children. But having been away from home for 30 weeks, I realise that there is nowhere better than home. That is the place where the air is familiar, the weather is gentler and the people are warmer and more genuine in spite of all imperfectness there is. People always say we are responsible for our own future and if that is the case, shouldnt we be the one making our home a better future for us instead of running away in search of a better one somewhere else? Do you run away from home? Do you give up on your home?

Prozac-tarian

Not so long ago, I was diagnosed as having dysthymia. Dysthymia, according to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorder, is a considered a chronic depression with less severity than major depressive disorder. And this diagnosis came from a professional, a colleague. I was having all the symptoms the manual described. She wanted to put me on Prozac. The word Prozac sounded scarier than the diagnosis itself. I was a little reluctant. She made an analogy, it would be like people with hypertension or diabetes, who would have to be on medication for the rest of their lives. And it is so coincident that, I just hear that analogy again on radio as I am writing this. She sensed my reluctantness and suggested I looked into insight meditation, Vippassana meditation, however, she still prescribed me with 3 months supply of Prozac. I took one and the rest was sort of donated to a friend who kept bugging me to let him try it and I never knew if he really took them.

It is very hard living with dysthymia. It is a struggle everyday. I often heard about the emotional roller coaster, but going through it is not the same as hearing about it. The feeling is hard to describe. You are constantly bogged down by this feeling of unhappiness which you are awared of but helpless. You whine perpetually about a life which is going well. Every infinitesimal things are blown up way beyond proportion. It seems like you have to find something to put the blame on. And your friends and maybe even your family are on the verge of giving up listening to you.

I am wondering now if i could have done better listening to my colleague and taken Prozac. The feeling has been exhausting and it is particularly so now. I think I need help but could the help be coming from me alone?..........

36 and going on........

Numbers are strange. They can be frightening at times. There are numbers we hold on to and there are numbers which we long for but will never get. From the day we were born, we were given numbers and we are still accumulating them. I can give you the whole lot of MY numbers......"36, is how old i am, 510, is the plate number of the car I used to drive, 19, is the number of years I still have to slog my ass off to pay off that house, 2.5 is the number of years I still have in this foreign land.........". I have some friends who are frightened by their own numbers lately. Not only did it frighten 1 particular friend, it shook his family as well. It was as if the numbers werent frightening enough, that the family had to add more to it. "3" was the number of times the family had arranged for him match making gatherings. But he absconded the 3rd meeting, having learned from the past 2 experiences.

Will there ever be a number which we are comfortable with?........