Numb

To the few friends who are aware of this blog,you people are closest to my heart. i trust you guys so much that I feel comfortable sharing my innermost thoughts with you, without the fear of shame, judgment nor resentment... i know that whatever things i say here would remain in secrecy for the rest of your lives. I trust you enough with my own life... to even consider what I'm about to do entails some form of insanity.... A journey to insanity, that's what my life has been--- but what a journey it was. Thanks for all the great memories... for giving me laughter amidst a life of misery, for giving me glimmers of hope amidst such sordid environs.

That's part of an entry entitled "Swan Song", saved in the drafts section of this blog for more than a year now. I really don't know why I created it... I wasn't even suicidal back then. Maybe i was, subconsciously. I made that entry during one of those pensive moments. Maybe I was thinking ahead, some sort of last will and testament, something I would publish when i decide to end it all--- when my life, which I have sporadically chronicled in this online journal, aptly entitled Journey to Insanity, would finally come to an end. Just one click, then it would be published in seconds. After all, when that moment comes, I don't think anyone would find time to write a lengthy entry just before making that final move.

Back when I was a child, i always thought I'd die young. Probably in my twenties. I was a somewhat sickly child. For one thing, I had frequent nose bleeds, almost on a daily basis, which really alarmed my parents. I had an operation when I was two years old, some structural defects that were allegedly cured by now--- though I seem to think otherwise. I've learned that a congenital defect in a certain organ increases the possibility of defects in others. There are many things I've observed that I never told my parents. Among those things were the frequent chest pains, frequent bouts of dizziness. I used to pray and wish that I would at least live to reach the age of thirty. At that age, I would already have my own family. I would have wife and a few kids, living in our own house. I would be in the middle of a very great career. I would already have lived the life i wanted, i would've already done most of the things I wanted to do.

That's so laughable now. By the time I reach thirty--- a mere three years from now, I still won't have my own family. There are so many things that I would still want to do. I would've barely lived the life i've wanted. Back in Med school, my childhood paranoia of dying young seemed to have resurfaced. I seem to be alarmed by even the smallest symptoms--- which turns out to be a normal phenomena among medical personnel. With the knowledge of certain diseases, many become paranoid even if a certain symptom could point to many things--- from something self limiting to something lethal. But recently, I became somewhat aloof to such symptoms. I've been having nosebleeds again, which was frequent during the first few months of the year. It's really embarrassing when it happens while I'm on duty. I have to drop whatever I'm doing just to control it. One time, it even happened while i was accompanying a patient to the CT scan. The patients relatives were really alarmed. There's also minute bleeding at another orifice. The chest pains have returned, though that happens rarely. There's occasional tinnitus, and problems with my vision. But I never had myself checked up, even if those symptoms could mean something serious. I just assumed that those symptoms pointed to the benign and self limiting conditions... Doctors are indeed the worst patients. Maybe it's overconfidence. Or maybe it's indifference. Maybe I just don't care anymore. I don't care whatever happens to me. I still want to do a lot of things, making me want to live longer... but there are times that I feel so tired of living, that I don't care if i die tomorrow, today, or even now. There are times when cigarettes and alcohol can't seem to numb my emotions anymore. When emotions are conflicted, when everything is a blur... When you feel trapped and there seems to be no possible way out... Dying young doesn't seem so bad. All joy and happiness would disappear all right, but all those problems, all those pain and frustrations would vanish along with them, until you'd feel nothing at all.

Sometimes nothingness seems like the greatest reward after enduring this trial we refer to as our lives.