Life

I haven't visited these pages for ages... yet somehow, they are luring me back. To fill them with my feelings and emotions, with my happiness and sadness.

So here I am, in front of this tiny screen, churning out word after word, describing my life, my experience, my destiny and my fate. it's very tempting for me to say that life is not fair. But on second thought, maybe it's not fairness that we should look at and scrutinize, but its purpose. My Bipolar Disorder had robbed me of a normal and happy life. No, I do not mean that my life now is unhappy, rather, it's not happily normal. Somehow, it's skewed to one side, ever leaning dangerously on the edge of a cliff. The cliff of suicide and death.

I was not a brilliant student when I studied at MCKK. But I was ok. After getting my scholarship to the States to pursue my dream in architecture, I was constantly getting good grades and more than a few times, getting into the Dean's list. But life is... a life. Things changed and so did my life. After 3 years in the states and enjoying a successful career as a student, the table turned. I started to suffer from depression... at least that's what the counselors and doctors told me. when the illness first hit me, I didn't want to see any doctors. I just slept at home. Didn't go to my studio or lectures. Didn't do any assignment and didn't attend any exams. My GPA was 0 (yes, you read it right: ZERO). But I didn't worry at all. What I knew at that time was how to end my life. That's all. Everything was dark. Everything was cold. Negativity breed like mushroom during the rainy season. Filling the voids in my mind and pushing whatever sanity that I had left, out, into the openness of this small midwestern town. None of my friends could do anything... none...zilch. Letters after letters from the Malaysian Students Department at Chicago arrived threatening to end my scholarship, but I was indifferent towards them. Until one of my professors, forced me to see a doctor.

And I was on Zoloft after that.

I was supposed to get better, but I did not. My GPA became like a roller coaster. One semester 3+ and another too low, that many times almost touching 0.0... I had to extend another 2 years due to my instability. I didn't know what was happening to me. But I knew that something was wrong. Seriously wrong. Terribly wrong... But of course, I've never heard about Bipolar. I was just suffering from depression. So, after 7 years of hardships in the state of Iowa, I finally graduated... I was happy, not realizing that the nightmare had not ended; it actually had just begun.