It's really bad.
Bad-ass B-A-D.
The palpitations, the worthlessness, the despair, the anxiety.
I had this back when I was still studying, 2004, where it got so bad that I was admitted to ward.

I missed work yesterday.
In the afternoon, I went for a swim.
A desperate attempt to regain my desire for life.
In the pool, I saw three young lads.
They were learning to swim.
They asked me for some swimming tips.
I told them the little of what I know.
I was very amused by their fourteen-year-old enthusiastic zest for life.
And then I offered them my extra pair of goggles.
"Thank you , Aunty."
Little did they know that I'm thanking them even more.

This morning, the episode was at its peak.
I was thinking of suicidal options.
"I can't go through this again. This is not worth it. If I can end it once and for all..."
An hour later, somehow, I managed to get up and got a Uber ride.
I noticed the driver has a lot of masculine veins.
Oddly, even my depressed soul managed an internal chuckle recalling my conversation with Mn just the night before, about what makes a man attractive.

Things were not that hopeful at the clinic.
I burst out in tears trying to explain to the doctor how I felt.
He asked if I want to be admitted.
No.
My dosage was increased.
I noticed this young doctor was very jovial.
He beat-box-ed when he walked and said funny made-up words like chawabangka?
I think he's building a very strong positive defense.

I am now in the office.
What now?