Friday, February 2, 2018

That One Point

Hello.

First of all. Wow. Just wow. My last post was in... 2014. Just a few months before I hit the road to another state for a new job.

Memasuki 2018, masih lagi aku di tempat kerja ini. Di negeri ini.

Ahem.

Before I go further, I would like to kindly remind you that this is a post about being depressed, anxious, and a whole lot of other things. Alia beberapa tahun yang lepas, bukanlah lagi Alia yang sekarang. So, if you're not into deep conversation about human's feelings and state of mind, you may skip this very post.

Today, is basically the worst feeling of 'being invisible' and 'unimportant' that I've had in months. Heck, most probably years since I was in this State.

The worst. Lowest of low. That I finally called the Self-Harm Prevention Helpline, after weeks of contemplating that I should finally do 'it'. Because, 'Hey Alia, if people treated you as if you're not there, invisible, might as well you just cease to exist, right?'

That very thought played in my mind, over and over again. That thought that was usually suppressed by working out and turning the Allah Almighty for help, suddenly overflow. Erupted. That hideous monster contained in a bubble all this time, suddenly got out, dancing around my brain, destroying my sanity.

After a kind-of long talk with whoever it is on the line (bless him), I finally calmed down. And here I am, a few hours later, writing this. Whatever this is.




Dear Alia.
Today was February 3rd, 2018.
Call was made at 12.25 PM.
Call duration was 13 minutes and 2 seconds.
Pink marathon t-shirt, blue jeans, cream shawl.
You chose somewhere in the training duration that starts tomorrow, rooftop.

Dear Alia,
Admitting to a total stranger that you're torn takes courage.
You were strong.
This, is nothing to be ashamed of.

Dear Alia, 
You were not okay today.
May you finally found your peace; whenever you are, whatever you may be, when you're reading this.