For you; Everything

Prologue

I never knew what it felt like to live life to the fullest, maybe because I was too busy worrying about staying alive rather than focusing on how to live in the few moments that I was given.

The fear of knowing that you're going to leave this world at any given moment still hovers over me like a dark cloud, or a shadow that is ready to pounce and swallow me into it's depths, never to see the light of day again.

I'd jolt out of my sleep, drenched in cold sweat as I gasped for air with so much greed. My knuckles white from gripping the sheets tight enough to strangle myself.

My tearful eyes would search the darkness of my room, just to make sure that I haven't fallen into the silent darkness that was ready to consume me, that I feared so much.

A heavy sigh would leave my mouth as I came to realise that it was all a nightmare. A very realistic and bone-chilling nightmare.

I would get up shakily from the drenched sheets, staggering to the bathroom. My reflection scared me more than my actual nightmares.

After vomiting my guts out and crying on the floor, I'd wash my face and drag my feet back into bed.

Letting the fimiliar warmth engulf me as I tried to clear my head and hope that I'd get a decent amount of sleep before having to report back to the office.

But my mind deceived me, making up a chain of thoughts that became worse with every blink. And I'd stay wide-eyed staring at the ceiling until the golden light filtered into my room through the curtains.

Every night, the same would happen. I thought of seeking therapy but it wouldn't cooperate with my already busy schedule. I thought of telling my doctor or seeing my parents about it but I never had the guts to do it.

They'd try to reach out to my family and friends in order to provide moral support. I wasn't ready to be smothered with attention and drowned in questions that even I couldn't answer.

There was no way I was going to my friends about it, not even my brother. They already had their own lives to worry about, and I didn't want to be seen as a charity case, it was hard enough with them knowing about my condition.

It's been getting worse with each passing day. The solitude only giving me more time and space to dwell on it for hours on end.

It's been like this for months. Each one worse than the last one, I've experienced several panic attacks during the day as well. A few in my own office.

I'm scared that they'll see it. The dark circles under my eyes, the huge weight loss I've had during the past few weeks. Turning down every opportunity to hang out with them.

I can't put them through another roller coaster, as if walking on thin ice. They don't deserve to suffer because of what I'm going through.

I can deal with it alone. I don't want their help, I'm not weak. They'd make everything worse. And I don't want that.

They can't know.

They just can't.

The burden was mine to bare, they can't share my scars, they can't cry my tears. They can't hear my heartbreak, see my demons, feel my pain. They can't walk in my shoes. They can't lay in my grave.

"Not again."

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