Relapse?

Bismillah-ir-Rahman-ir-Raheem

Assalam alaikum wr wb,

Well. It's here. My body is vibrating with the effects of it. My effing ribs are hurting. And don't even ask about my head. It feels like my brain has come unattached.

And oh the emotional diarrhoea. I just can't stop crying.

I've fought it with frantic activity, movies, fake laughter and just plain lies. But I can't keep my finger in the dam any longer and now it is all here and I'm struggling to keep my head above it.

I often wonder why it had to be me. Why I couldn't be normal and successful - everybody's definition of successful, that is - like my brother. He's got a nice job, a nice car and nice friends. He just came back from a holiday in Thailand. What else is there to want? He's now looking for the right girl to settle down with.

And I'm the one who's falling apart. I always wonder why it had to be me.

I'm trying really hard here to treat myself with some kindness.

My father is asking me to come with him to see the T20 match at Dubai Sports City. It probably be a blast cos the Sports City supposed to be pretty awesome. But I'm frightened that he'll yell at me again if I am less than exuberant. If I'm a little mournful or bad-tempered or snappy.

What the hell was I thinking? Getting into the job market again. In the middle of the recession. When the last job hunt damn near killed me. I was just getting better too. What kind of chosen person do I think I am when there are millions unemployed and I will somehow in the middle of a Goddamn global economic downturn find the job of my dreams? Explore my options, my butt. Not face reality, more likely.

God is trying to tell me something. Dunno what though. Not yet.

Wassalam and Vaya Con Dios,
Zed.

P.S. Goshdarn it, I'm not going back there. I'm not going back inside my shell. What can I do to get out of this? First, I need to get my mind off of it, so I will just NOT speak to my parents. I'm going to clean my room and keep my hands busy. Hopefully, Insha Allah (SWT) it will work.