I just came back from a hopping row in Petaling Street. It's been awhile since I went out and due to a lot of external factors lately, it felt great to be able to hop from one restaurant to another to just try new things, talk and just drink. I feel like I've been avoiding the truth lately - just like how I've been avoiding mentioning the pandemic in this blog.
Literally, I've deleted almost every social media once/twice but this blog remains my one and only social media archive on the world wide web yet I have never spoken about life in the pandemic.. and it's been a year? Can you believe that? My state of denial to record the currently "new normal" we live in has last more/if so a year.
And many things have changed in that year.
And I've never really addressed it to myself - how I've felt in that one year.
For many, I might have seemed lucky. Work for resumed as normal, savings were kept as I live in a house with my parents. But as privileged as I sound - I was definitely not okay. Stress levels were at ultimate high where I realised my hair was falling out, my sleeping cycle is fucked up - which I've grown to just accept and live with and I just feel 'another one' in the world.
& though I've come to a point where I can just live with it, I feel like I owe myself to just ask - am I really okay?
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