Today was a hard day for me. For my family. Just when everything starts to settle down.

I just hope we can get through this terrible time. Together…

That was a post I put up a week ago. I guess it was about five... six days ago?

Anyway I know I haven’t updated in awhile here. Things are… a lil bit inconvenient for me. Just didn’t have the time or place to blog.

Due to special circumstances. Circumstances that require me and my family to visit the hospital day and night.

Personal reasons that I can’t really explain fully here. I will however try to explain a little of what happened in the last few days of my life. I need to tell. I need to let things out. Even if just a tiny crack.

Things happened. Bad things. Things I wouldn’t wish on anyone. But these things happened. These things do happened. It happened to my family.

Nobody foreseen it. Not me. Not my family. Not anyone. It just happened so fast. Everything seemed so fine and good.

But the next thing we knew…

This wasn’t the first time it happened. It had happened more than once now. It happened so much I lost count.

I guess everything started on that one fateful day. About a year ago. Or maybe it was two years ago, I’m not sure anymore.  Time means absolute nothing to me. These days, time seems to stretch, like the tiny drop of water on the tip of a leaf, waiting to fall. And yet it passed so fast it makes my head spin. Time just doesn’t make any sense anymore. Not like it used to.

Maybe it’s the price you have to pay for growing up. The price to be alive. The price to see things clearly. The price to change.

About a week ago, my family and me had time stolen from us. Time we wanted to have for a very long time. And just when we finally got it back…

Just when everything was starting to fall back in place… time was rudely taken from us again.

This happened just two days ago. We still haven’t got our time back. We may never will.

But we still fight. We still fight for our hope. We still fight for our light. We still fight for our time.

I don’t know when it started but… I began to hate hospitals. I guess I had always hated them. I used to think hospitals as a refuge of some type. A shelter for the injured. Whether it was for a wound on the outside or the pain in the inside. A home.

I know for some people, they don’t really like hospitals. I don’t know whether it is because of the cold, or the faint smell of disinfectant in the air there, or maybe just the plain fact that they don’t like doctors. I mean don’t get me wrong. I quite understand the feeling. I always regretted the day of my dental checkup. And even the day for my annual eye checkups.

But I always felt safe…

Easy…

Warm…

I still do, once in awhile. But again, despite those feelings, I’m beginning to hate the place.

Maybe the main reason I hate hospitals is because the place may give me that special comfort, it also makes me feel weak.

Helpless.

Worthless.

While I was in the hospital, I couldn’t do anything to help. All I did all day was sit there. Doing nothing. Sure, sometimes I play with my phone, get online, check my blog,etc. But… other than that, I just sat there.

I felt sick.

I guess because of that, I hate hospitals. I know. Just because of a stupid reason. Get over it.

It’s just that I don’t to just sit or stand or walk around. I want to help. I want to fight for our time. And for me, just sitting on that chair and hoping for the best is not the way.

And because of this, I think I’ve developed a mild case of insomnia for the last few days. I’m sleeping later and later. My limit used to be at just about midnight. Any longer than that, it wouldn’t be so surprising that I’ll sleep while I’m standing. it won’t be a first time.

Once, I think, I accidentally slept while I was walking down the stairs. Thank god I didn’t fell down or I would’ve walked away with more than just a few bruises. It was only for a minute. And a minute is a long time. That was a really strange experience.

Now, I can go without sleep for a day. But I would be so exhausted. No matter what I do, I couldn’t fell asleep. It’s like my body wants to stop and rest but my mind is still on hyper-drive. Even when I’m not thinking about anything. Like my brain is running on and on and on like one of those pink robot bunnies with the long lasting batteries. But my body just can’t keep up.

Yesterday I think I fell asleep at around 2-3am. And I woke up at about 10am. That’s another thing. I sleep and wake up late. The latest time I woke up was at just about after noon. Like at 12.30pm.

I don’t like sleeping and waking up late. It makes me have migraines. And migraines is not something I like waking up to.

Even as I am writing this post here, the clock just stroke 2am. And I’m still awake. Obviously. My mind wants to go on. But my hands feels like rubber.

Bottom line is that I’m really starting to hate hospitals.

And I’m starting to hate everything. Everything around me. I hate them all. Nothing seemed like what it used to be anymore. Like every meaning for everything was erased. And rewritten into something I don’t recognize. Or even know.

I don’t want to go to the hospital anymore. Not because I don’t care. I do. I do care about it. About our time. It’s just complicated in my case.

I guess it’s because I’m afraid. I’m afraid of what might happen. I’m afraid of what will happen. I’m just too afraid I might not be able to help anymore.

So here I hide and write. Here I talk about what happened. Here I seek my comfort. The comfort I know I wouldn’t be able to get. Not here anyway.

I guess I should stop here. My clock just stroke 3am. I should at least try to get some sleep today. I need it. For what is to come. For what will come.

Time and time and again.

Time sure is short when you’re growing up.

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