A DAY IN THE LIFE

One year ago today I had my very first panic attack. It also happened in this very same place where I am sitting right now. I’ve noticed that these past few days I’ve been having mild attacks (and even a few minutes before making this entry). I’m glad that my recent attacks are not like those of last year’s which made most of my waking hours dreadful. Maybe my disorder is just celebrating its first birthday. No problem. Party on.

Nobody loves a party pooper but I sure hell don’t want another celebration next year. And I’m not into monthsaries either.

The wrong exit made at the freeway. A cigarette incorrectly lit at the filter. Having sex with someone but whispering a different name… These are just a few of those awfully stupid mistakes we make, whether we like it or not. And yes, there are such things as mistakes and stupid mistakes.

Everytime I commit a terribly stupid mistake, I find it very difficult to look in the mirror. Maybe it is because I am ashamed of myself or maybe I just can’t believe that I’ve commited another blunder. Well, I still don’t know.

But I’ve realized one thing. Whenever I make a mistake, I should not be afraid to look in the mirror. I should stare into the mirror. And most of all, I must be able to see what’s on the other side and not contemplate on the reflection in the mirror. Mistakes make us human. Admitting a mistake and learning from that mistake makes a man.

Yesterday morning while taking a shower, the huge crack in the bathroom mirror caught my attention. And although the mirror was all fogged up, I saw a figure of a man. It was not my reflection. It was who I should be.

I’ve been having this bout with this "panic-anxiety" thing for almost a year now. Haven’t heard of it? Go on a Google trip and you’ll understand. But understanding is way too different from experiencing. Believe me, it’s a lot less scary and terrifying than the real thing. Call me hopeless poetic, call me anything you want but everytime I try to explain what I experienced, figures of speech do lose their purpose and exaggeration loses its meaning.

For months, each day was a struggle. But it seemed that the harder I struggle, the deeper I sank, much like in a quicksand. I was afraid that things got a lot worse. But I know it should not get the best of me. I tried to stop fighting what I was feeling. I tried to give in. I tried to embrace the fear. Somehow, it worked.

I used to live dying. I believe it’s way past time to die living my life.

Tuesday last week I heard a familiar voice but I never saw the familiar face that comes along with it. At that moment I felt a song coming on.

Say when you’re alone
It’s better ’cause nobody knows you
When no one’s your friend
It’s better ’cause nobody leaves you
So you turned your back
On a world that you could never have
‘Cause your heart’s been cracked
And everyone else’s is goin’ mad

But I hear voices
And I see colors
But I wish I felt nothing
Then it might be easy for me
Like it is for you

Now all of these people
Come up from deep holes
Pullin’ you down
And it’s just no use
When all the abuse follows you down
By the morning you’ve gone
Leavin’ me here all alone
Sayin’ it’s no mystery
I know that nobody here needs me

But I hear voices
And I see colors
But I wish I felt nothing
Then it might be easy for me
Like it is for you

And I know you believe that you and me don’t belong here
And the worst we could do
Is keep trying to pretend we care

But I hear voices
And I see colors.
But I wish I felt nothing
Then it might be easy for me
Like it is for you

I wish Jakob Dylan was sitting beside me that time. He could’ve written another lyrically flawless song or two. I believe a blog entry was the next best thing.