Which is the true nightmare, the horrific dream that you have in your sleep or the dissatisfied reality that awaits you when you awake?
One of the quotes that screams the protest of my already-saturated and fried mind. Mind and heart, you get anxiety flowing through your veins. I always thought our hearts were a switch, on for us to work and survive the day. I am not quite sure if it should be this laborious to breathe, feeling the pounding heart containing more tension as each minute ticks by. Or that we end up holding our breaths in horror upon seeing a question that we cannot answer, only to have your brain seemingly shocked by waves due to the deficit of oxygen. My mind was never made for this, I assure you. I would tell you it is full of colour, and a vibrant garden it is. But as all stories have their villains, it seems that the flowers have wilted and there hasn’t been a ray of the sun in a very long time. It was a safe haven. Well, until… The demons come out. It happens when I forget to take deep breaths. When I cannot see a Question through. It’s like a twister is brewing within: the demons agglomerate, and then they churn some sort of negative energy that builds up within. Running through this garden and the entire city, it wrecks and destroys the place it came from. Within. For better or for worse, it really depends on which angle you’re looking at. Oh. And the time, too. You probably guessed that in the dark, at night, the destructive side reigns. Sometimes it’s not afraid to trail on broad daylight. The sunrays used to be infinite, and invincible. On some days, they seem like they are, almost perfectly normal. But like the ozone layer that requires patching up – the clouds – that’s what they do. That might enlighten you on whether you are treading on the very fine, borderline, of bipolarism. Today I woke up with the routine of oversleeping, and proceeded to read my notes. I would say it was a relatively productive day, taking some punches, leaving my soul too drained to stand straight and sapped to the droughted base of a well. But I am not happy. So many times today, I found myself wiping the tears that were welling up each time I couldn’t solve a question, or didn’t know the solution. And then pretending that I am fine, because – how do I proceed with a crushed morale, if I allow myself to hit my breaking point now? Just 3 days away, I cannot afford that. I cannot afford to fail, and the thought of it strikes terror within. I think about everyone in local university who copes just fine. I see those around me who manages not just their own academics but their tutees. The thought of me falling behind – is definitely something I try very much not to think of. It is less than 3 days away now, and it will be over in 10 days. I hope I will trudge on with some sort of confidence, like a safety blanket, to hold on to so I won’t drown beneath paper after paper, handout after handout, and sink in the stack of notes I hold on too, so tightly. Gripping it as if it were my ticket to heaven.