"Thinking" Kills.

My heart sunk to the pit of my stomach, residing against my spine. I could feel the pressure on my spine pushing against the back of my seat on the train. My lungs must have collapsed. I couldnt breathe. It felt as though my ribs fell and caged in my lungs.

I choked. My throat was tight, particularly on the right side.

Then tears started to fall from my eyes.

I felt so sad and it was barely 7am.

Moments earlier i was on the phone with the fanatical L, talking about Socceroo's draw against Croatia...although im not a fan, i felt ecstatic from her enthusiasm. I was cheery to a point where i thought i might burst out laughing on the train.

Some minutes had passed and my mind went to a place where it was quiet to think. And when it crossed the word "Hope", that was when i felt sad. Thats when i cried.

Its been over a year and my burden feels really heavy on my shoulders. I feel hopeless, almost at a breaking point. I cant share how i exactly feel with anyone, but on Wednesday night I had told my mother, which i didnt really want to do. She has enough to worry about without me telling her my woes.

I was driving her to get some groceries because we were out of milk. It was just after work. I'm pretty sure i was PMS-ing. I was just so frustrated with life. So angry at my brother for something so insignificant and yet so poignant in my life. I told her i was tired of trying to hold things together. I told her i that i didnt know how long i could take "this" anymore. I told her that no one knows, which is why no one understands.

We both rely on "hope" and the truth is i know she is the only one who understands me, even though i said it in English. "Hope" is now my only lifeline, but it also feels like an enemy.

I'm getting that same sad feeling (on the train) right now, writing this, admitting to this. I cant believe tears have escaped my eyes again.

On the drive back, my mother tried to comfort me by telling me a story. She told me that when she was pregnant with me she felt really lucky. When she gave birth to me she felt an overwhelming sense of luck and fortune. She thought she had given birth to a lucky child. She believes that i am lucky. Everyone in my family believes that im lucky. Which is why my Chinese name is what it is.

I thought my name had meant strength/foundation. Well, that was what i was told when i was younger. But apparently, its a derivative of "Gia Boh" (which you really have to say in Teo Chiew). My Aunt Linda wanted to name me that, but my mother said it sounded too harsh in the Vietnamese translation...so my mother changed it to what it is today. Apparently, "gia boh" is meant to be the word in Chinese for "unique" or "one of a kind" in the sense of luck and good fortune. For my relatives my birth was this special, one of a kind, a lucky gift that descended upon them. I was the only grand daughter, the only niece to be born. Everyone else had given birth to sons. Since, I brought them the good fortune of a girl in the family, that meant that i was a lucky person.

I know what she was trying to tell me, but it didnt help.

It only started this whole sad, choking feeling...helping the tears fall from my eyes.

My brain must be awfully powerful. I'm not trying to be arrogant, insinuating that i am uber smart. What i mean is that it must be powerful, since it is capable of unimaginable things. From a single word, my brain can invoke intense emotions that are negative and have no correllations to that word. "Hope" is like a double edged sword to me now, but it never was before. One thought and my brain has turned it into one of my worst enemies.

The grey mass inside my head conjures and processes thoughts that tortures me from within. I know i think too much. Which is why i try to distract myself as much as possible. Its ironic that something that doesnt physically exist may be the one thing that will lead me to destruction.

Please dont take this as a suicide note. Its not. I am not going to hurt myself. Funny how the grey mass is smart enough to decide NOT to take that path. I still know what is right and what is wrong. I just feel so sad. The shade of sadness is not pale blue, its more the shade that is soo deep that it is almost black. But im giving in to that speck of light that i see as my guide in all the dark shades of blue.

You know how there are signs on the packaging of cigarettes that say "Smoking Kills"? I just wished someone had packaged my brain with a sign that read "Thinking Kills". At least then i couldnt deny the warning.