"Life is like a journey into the unknown. You never know the effect of your next step, or where it will lead you by the end of the day. Walking through mystery is never easy, and it never will be. But sadly, you're not given the option to give up. No matter how tired, drained, or worn out you feel, quitting simply isn't allowed. As long as you keep waking up every day, movement is mandatory. No matter how many times you fall or how tough the road becomes, you're expected to get up, dust yourself off, and keep going."
(Sunk in thought)These words come from an audio I always listen to online. It's become my favorite, almost like someone is whispering to me, reminding me to live through each day no matter what. The audio sometimes helps with my sleep disorder. I can't fall asleep without listening to something, or without having earphones plugged into my ears.
That doesn't mean I sleep early or rest well. But it's better than lying in the dark all night, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling, or twisting and turning endlessly. I should be on sleep medication, but my doctor ruled it out. It would be too much to handle, especially since I'm already on antidepressants. Plus, sleeping pills can become addictive, and their side effects are another nightmare altogether.
My doctor wants to approach treatment step by step, because I have both minor and major issues that need attention. So here I am, facing all my demons stone-cold sober. How I wish the antidepressants would get me high, just a little, rather than leave me drowsy and sluggish. But drinking or smoking is out of the question. "Not good for your health," they say. And for someone like me, it's too easy to become an addict. I've been warned not even to try. If I did, things would spiral, and fast. The doctor made it clear: I could die an untimely death.
Honestly, sometimes I think she's just being mean when she says those things. If she were in my shoes, she'd probably prescribe a glass of alcohol three times a day, with numbing tablets on the side.But no. Here I am, facing hell with a sober mind. The hardest task I've ever taken on.
Hahahaha.Life. It's good at playing cruel jokes. After everything I've been through, I still have to suffer to get better? What kind of life is this? It's like "worse" always has a way of turning into "worst." Never "better." Never even just "okay." I don't even know who or what I'm fighting anymore. Or why. If only I knew, I'd ask for a truce.
If I hadn't made promises in the past, maybe I would have...
(Phone ringing)Once again, I couldn't sleep. And before I realized it, dawn was breaking. A pale light was creeping into my room through the window.
The audio wasn't helping at all.
(Thinking aloud)"Who in their right mind is calling this early on a weekend?"
(Picks phone from under the pillow, sighs)"Thank God this person can't hear my thoughts, or they'd be cursing me out right now."
(Presses the answer button)"Tasha, you promised to follow your doctor's instructions and not skip your sessions!"
(Thinking)Oh no. I'm busted. I thought I covered my tracks when I skipped those appointments. But how did she even find out?
"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" she snapped. "I bet you're wondering how I knew. You thought your stupid doctor was letting you do whatever you want? I told you I'm watching you, but you didn't take me seriously. If you don't fix this by the end of the week, I'm booking a ticket and flying over. You know what that means."
(Thinking)Ugh, of course. It must be Lisa, the blabbermouth. She's the only one who could've spilled. Now I need to do some serious damage control with this angry bird.
(Rolling eyes)"Anne, it's been a while. Can we at least start this call with a proper greeting?" I tried, attempting to change the subject.
(Furious)"Don't even try me. Stop wasting my time. Now tell me, why aren't you going to your therapy sessions?"
"I'm sorry. It's just that the work and the sessions together are too much. I can't manage both. I had to choose one…"
"Tasha," she interrupted sharply, "if you want to act like a wheelbarrow, fine, I've got enough strength to push you. But this ends now. Stop lying to yourself and go to your sessions. Or else…"
(Sitting up, adjusting pillows behind my back, tired and annoyed)"Okay, okay! No need to threaten me. I get it. I'll go. Happy now?"
"DON'T GET ANGRY WITH ME. THOSE SESSIONS HELP YOU EVEN MORE THAN THEY HELP THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU. THIS IS MY FINAL WARNING. TAKE ME SERIOUSLY!"
I could feel her fury over the phone, burning hot. Honestly, I'm surprised her phone didn't catch fire. And despite my effort to stay calm, my anger started rising. She wasn't listening. She was treating me like I was careless and irresponsible. I hate that.
(Lost in thought)
"TASHA!"
(Snapping)"Enough! I'm not a child. Stop yelling. Did you even hear what I said earlier? I'm trying to share my feelings with you, but you don't care! Have you ever thought about how I feel every time I walk into that hospital? Have you done your homework before barging into my life like this?"
"Let me save you the trouble: Every time I go there, it feels like I might not make it back. The smell of medicine, the cries of patients from other rooms, the memory of all my past admissions—it's torture. And those sessions? They just rip open wounds I'm trying to forget. So no—I don't want to go back! The meds are enough. Your threats don't work on me anymore. Find a new strategy. And don't call me again unless you have something meaningful to say!"
I shouted so loud, I was grateful there weren't any close neighbors. Otherwise, I'd have had to deal with a whole new argument for disturbing the peace.
She hung up. I guess she finally realized we weren't getting anywhere, and that I wasn't going to change my mind. We were both angry. I didn't bother calling back. I had no energy left for more arguing.
(Angst rising, muttering)But Lisa… this won't end here.