A miserable Friday, an entertaining Saturday, and a lacklustre Sunday.
That about sums up my weekend. Nothing really to indicate that my social life has rejuvenated itself. No, I had no intention of visiting Cavell's again, while clubbing has been stunted by yet another month of dried-up funds, due to no fault of mine. Sigh. For how long is this going to drag on, I know not. One can only hope that the subsequent month brings better fortune in terms of wealth; I do not hold my breath.
Dark Knight was absorbing, and worth the precious money spent. It was a good outing to the cinema, even if the venue was in dodgy Puchong (hehehe). Considering the fact that tickets for the latest edition of Batman were pretty much unavailable at most of the cineplexes, one cannot have too many complaints. Only issue would be the flat Coke served and the less than crunchy popcorn. All else was satisfactory.
Had a strange drive home last night. After completing my routine Sunday tea session, headed to a couple of places to buy some essentials (medication has definitely become an essential these days). As I waited for the lights to turn green, I suddenly experienced a bout of complete despair. Wave after wave of melancholic emotions crashed against my psyche; so much so I had to pull up by the side and take several deep breaths, just to fight off the lump in my throat. Bloody stupefying, I must say. A cigarette completed the recovery process, but depression peaked again some 10 minutes later. This time there was no opportunity to stop by the side, so I put the pedal to the metal (or is it metal to the pedal?) and left Speedy Gonzales trailing in my dust. These alien feelings really had me rattled throughout the night, and only fully subsided once I had gotten into Zodiac, a cracker of a movie, if I may humbly say so myself.
The problem is, I'm not too sure if I'm despairing over past events, or events to be. I'm unable to pinpoint exactly if I'm worried over being broke now, or the fact that I might be broke next month as well. Emotions within me are playing musical chairs, shifting from anger to resentment to sadness to despair to dismay to depression to grief to relief to fear within a relatively short period of time, say 15 minutes. Just when I have the measure of one emo type, it shapeshifts into another and sends me to Start all over again. Mental reserves are fast being depleted, and the fortress around my mind is slowly but surely being chipped away, daily. This has me doubly worried, since I haven't exactly experienced a traumatic or demoralising event, be it death, sickness or even unemployment. Or perhaps those aren't the only low instances in a person's life. Maybe being broke, or being dumped, or being unsure of the future, or being lonely is enough to send me spiralling downwards to the emotional dumps.
I think I'm beyond advice, beyond reproach at this stage. I think I don't really care what people have to say. I still want to talk and analyse and evaluate and all those nitty gritty things psychologists like to do in order to show they warrant the exorbitant fees they charge. Most of all though, I'm still not certain if I want a quick fix or a gradual healing process. After all, this too shall pass, won't it?
And if it doesn't, such is life.
That about sums up my weekend. Nothing really to indicate that my social life has rejuvenated itself. No, I had no intention of visiting Cavell's again, while clubbing has been stunted by yet another month of dried-up funds, due to no fault of mine. Sigh. For how long is this going to drag on, I know not. One can only hope that the subsequent month brings better fortune in terms of wealth; I do not hold my breath.
Dark Knight was absorbing, and worth the precious money spent. It was a good outing to the cinema, even if the venue was in dodgy Puchong (hehehe). Considering the fact that tickets for the latest edition of Batman were pretty much unavailable at most of the cineplexes, one cannot have too many complaints. Only issue would be the flat Coke served and the less than crunchy popcorn. All else was satisfactory.
Had a strange drive home last night. After completing my routine Sunday tea session, headed to a couple of places to buy some essentials (medication has definitely become an essential these days). As I waited for the lights to turn green, I suddenly experienced a bout of complete despair. Wave after wave of melancholic emotions crashed against my psyche; so much so I had to pull up by the side and take several deep breaths, just to fight off the lump in my throat. Bloody stupefying, I must say. A cigarette completed the recovery process, but depression peaked again some 10 minutes later. This time there was no opportunity to stop by the side, so I put the pedal to the metal (or is it metal to the pedal?) and left Speedy Gonzales trailing in my dust. These alien feelings really had me rattled throughout the night, and only fully subsided once I had gotten into Zodiac, a cracker of a movie, if I may humbly say so myself.
The problem is, I'm not too sure if I'm despairing over past events, or events to be. I'm unable to pinpoint exactly if I'm worried over being broke now, or the fact that I might be broke next month as well. Emotions within me are playing musical chairs, shifting from anger to resentment to sadness to despair to dismay to depression to grief to relief to fear within a relatively short period of time, say 15 minutes. Just when I have the measure of one emo type, it shapeshifts into another and sends me to Start all over again. Mental reserves are fast being depleted, and the fortress around my mind is slowly but surely being chipped away, daily. This has me doubly worried, since I haven't exactly experienced a traumatic or demoralising event, be it death, sickness or even unemployment. Or perhaps those aren't the only low instances in a person's life. Maybe being broke, or being dumped, or being unsure of the future, or being lonely is enough to send me spiralling downwards to the emotional dumps.
I think I'm beyond advice, beyond reproach at this stage. I think I don't really care what people have to say. I still want to talk and analyse and evaluate and all those nitty gritty things psychologists like to do in order to show they warrant the exorbitant fees they charge. Most of all though, I'm still not certain if I want a quick fix or a gradual healing process. After all, this too shall pass, won't it?
And if it doesn't, such is life.
2 comments:
hey prav, sounds like an anxiety attack! :(
hope you're feeling better!
yes, have recovered, relatively.
though fear not, don't think it was heart related.
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