A Year Ago...

It’s been a year since the last emotional fiasco I dealt with. I don’t know exactly what to write or how to even start this entry but all I wanted is to share how far I have become since that day. I can say that I am proud of myself for not giving up on life and it may look like I almost did but seriously, it was just an accident… will get to that later.

The Heartbreak

Everyone in my circle knew exactly what happen, how it happened and what made it happen. I don’t need to get into so many details because it is really that annoying to even begin with. It safe to say that I fell madly in love to a stick figure with no soul, a man with no heart but just flesh, an entity not a human being. I am not bitter , I have forgiven him and I have definitely moved on. But reflecting on what happen, even if that schiz happened a year ago—that thing still fucks my being.

The Accidental Death

Shortly after the heartbreak disaster, my thinking faculty was impaired and was clouded with different kinds of emotions resulting to even bigger damages that branched out all over my system. I was not in my regular self and thinking and most of my decision makings are factored with senseless act of rebellion combined with carelessness and self-destruction. I became abusive with my health, unintentionally. All I have in mind is I wanted to run away from the endless pain I am dealing with. I am a lousy coward and I can’t deal with the truth. I am too numb to even feel a single ounce of care to myself. And then, shit happened!

Memories were blurry. I can hear sobs and I can smell fear. I can’t feel my body. I can’t move my hands. I can’t feel anything. I am grasping for air. I turned to my right side; my father was holding my hand. I turned to the left; I saw doctors and nurses rushing to put medical machines in my body. I saw my mom from the outside, she’s crying and worried. I closed my eyes and I prayed harder than I ever prayed in my life—God! Am I dying? Please, not today. I am sorry.

When I opened my eyes, I felt a sudden sting in my pulse. On that instance, I was revived. I pursed my lips and slowly carved a smile. I called my mom and tell her everything is gonna be OK. Despite of the weakness and the soreness, I tried to be cheerful to ease the atmosphere.

Soon the doctors broke the good news—I am alive.

Up to this day, the white walls, the metallic medical thingy, the needles, the pump, and the tube haunts me like a poltergeist in the night. I still shiver each time I am reminded of that day. But if God will ask me to do it all over again, I’d still want that certain part of my life because no matter how scary things might be, something great happened after. It changed my life and it made me stronger and I hope wiser.