Da Capo

“I’ve been going to the gym semi-regularly, taking my meals, and haven’t had much issues with sleep either.”

“That’s good to hear, I’ll prescribe you with the same medication for two weeks. Keep it up!”, said the psychiatrist with a smile.

It’s been quite some time since I last saw my psychiatrist smile.

Every day, I’ll wake up, take my medication, go to work, and have an appointment with my psychiatrist weekly, wondering if these pills even make a difference. I could do everything just right, and still not a sliver of joy could be found.

Tick, tock.

I’d do everything normally like clockwork, depleting all of my energy to do everything right, forcefully persuade myself, “I’ve done well today”. Yet, nothing ever feels right.

My reasoning and emotions are perpetually in turmoil. This never ending tug-of-war in my head gave birth and nurtured a parasite called anxiety. It’d be great if these antidepressants were anti-parasitic agents, or maybe I could visit a surgeon to pull this gigantic worm out of my head. Truth is, I’ve lost track of my feeble attempts to get rid of this annoying bugger. All I could do was spout words that I’d never dare to act out. I’d cry, I’d whine, rinse and repeat that for twenty years, and that’s how I ended up here.

Tick, tock.

After the appointment, I headed back to work and finished the day productively.

“Keep it up!” I recalled my psychiatrist’s words on my way home.

“I’m progressing, I’ll take that as a victory”, as my reasoning foolishly tried to convince myself. I am doing everything right. I should celebrate this minor victory in this longlasting battle.

As I’m waiting for my train, I put on my headphones. At this moment, my world consisted of just music, the train passing by, and me waiting by the yellow line. In celebration, I cleared my mind of reasoning, closed my eyes, trying to enjoy this very moment.

Tick, tock.

I opened up my eyes, one foot beyond the yellow line.

“Coward, as usual”, I muttered to myself, as I embarked the next train home.