Tuesday, April 22, 2008
dreams and slo-mo
Recently I have been dreaming in my sleep - is that a good thing? I think it means more frequent less-than-deep sleep cycles during the night. Probably not the best thing. I dream about things I should have done or should do, small petty things that hardly really matter.When it comes to the bigger things though, I procrastinate and find myself tiring out. My mental stamina is really low. Getting better, but still low. I find myself activities and projects to do, leisurely ones mostly, but I cannot seem to bring any of them into fruition, or if I go through it, I tire.
I am not sure that if I take those silly online IQ tests now, will my IQ still reach 140. I think about studying or learning anything new, and it feels daunting as hell.
What I need is physiotherapy for my mind: constant intellectual, creative and cognitive stimulation. To bring myself back up to speed. But right now, the E of the past seems so distant. The intelligent, gifted, talented E is a thing of the past. I feel like I am eighteen years old again, struggling with the stupid A levels and no matter how much I study, I still do badly.
Slowly, slowly.
At least I am exercising again - I took a short hiatus because I fell and bruised my left ankle. Shedding the fats slowly, and regaining my physical stamina.
And, I am finally actually getting through a book - A Fortune-Teller Told Me by Tiziano Terzani. While I am not superstitious, this book is a great insight into Asian religions and beliefs, and the writer travels almost all of the Asia that I love, detailing the things that matter to me. I am at the part of the story where he is now crossing into China via train from Vietnam. I am less than a hundred pages away till the book ends. There is a stash of books awaiting me to read and devour like I used to.
All this slowness, is, I gather, a function of my depression. Yes I am still depressed, I still feel sad sometimes for no reason, I still break down under stress, I still feel tired sometimes. My medication and actions act as a life-buoy for me. I wish I didn't work myself till I am this seemingly-irreparable. I would change a lot things if and when I get better. I would be less of a workaholic. I would bitch about things more to my close friends instead of keeping it inside. I would allow my weaknesses to show, and ask for help when I need it. I would no longer turn to loner-drinking at home to cope with my daily stress. I would I should I will.
I am not sure whether I will be less depressed when I start living out my life's dream once again. I lived it out before, during the first years of Splashwurks before I left. I felt right smack in the middle of God's will for my life, and I had my best friend alongside me in it. But within a year's space I lost a best friend, I left my business, I lost a dream in a bid to pursue another one that compelled me so. I tried to pick it up again: I got a job in a non-profit, but left it when it proved of little use to my career, when I had a nervous breakdown from over-working. Splash was the happiest part of my entire working career, not just because of the dream it represented, but because I had someone alongside me in it. I still have not gotten fully over this loss. Yet, all I know, is that I need to get out there into mission work even though I do not know how and when. And with whom.
I once felt God tell me this, long ago, that I am a maker of kings. I feel happy for all the boys and men I know whom I have had meaningful acquaintance with, who have now have achieved success, en route to the fulfillment of their destinies. Kings in their own right, royalty as a figure of speech for being in a position of destiny and leadership. I feel happy that I make the men in my life succeed, or at least push them in the right direction towards it. But when will it my own turn? I want to never thirst again, just like the Samaritan woman at the well.
Mom says I need to be patient. Though the dream tarries, wait for it. I guess I am ambitious. It feels good when I work hard and achieve great things. Adrenaline rush. But my ambition is rooted in mere semi-realism and hardcore perfectionism. And I feel used, like a dish-rag.
Slowly, slowly.
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