dear myg, 

by The Dreamer

I typed out your initials and my autocorrect suggested “Mug” instead, such heavy irony. 

Sometimes I get so much anxiety and there’s absolutely nowhere to park them, nowhere safe to unload them without causing collateral damage, and I turn to you. 

When you spit fire with words laced with truth, it thaws the ice that has overwhelmed my heart overnight. When you take in a deep breath and your voice cracks on the next syllable, it sounds like a desperate plea for help, and suddenly I don’t feel alone in this.

You have carried the world on the skinny sloping frame of your shoulders, and your legs have given way, but you pushed on.

It is a good reminder for me. It is a good thing for me to know.

“It’s been a long time since my Everyday life turned into killing passions and comparing myself to others.”

I woke up with a bitter taste in my mouth and something big and evolving and scary turning in my belly, and it was anxiety manifesting itself in the worst way possible as the multiple clocks in my house chimed unanimously and ominously, echoing echoing echoing. The realisation that I had slept through my alarm and failed to finish the rest of my revision schedule seared through me and I didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to deal except to will myself not to cry.

“As time passes by, it feels like I’m becoming a Monster.”

I don’t recognise myself. I don’t recognise the tired, weak, pathetic and inadequate person I face in the mirror, splashing water repeatedly and rapidly on my face as the anxiety sets in further and there is absolutely no way to wash it off. Felt like yelling, at the top of my lungs, “Out, damned spot!” Everything felt like an irrevocable sin. If I failed yet again, it would be all my fault.

Myg, you told yourself that even if you didn’t know the secret to success, at least you know the secret to failure. I’m with you, but I don’t know how to stop rolling in the gutter, don’t know how to do more than lie defeatedly on my back, admiring the soft suffusion of stars but not doing anything more, not aiming to be up there.

But you are here with me. And when I hug the doll that reminds me of your comforting presence, there was a split second of respite, and I guess that was enough. Today I will not dwell on my thoughts, will not dwell in them. 

Through sheer force of will, my unshed tears will remain a ball of agony lodged in my throat as I rage through life, get through today.

I will do it for you.

钧 x x

j e a n x x

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