Broken Wooden Stairs

Whenever my anxiety attacks, I get these nightmares. I’ve been having the same nightmares repeatedly, which is why I can’t sleep sometimes. I don’t sleep until it’s 6:30 a.m. and I’m exhausted.

In these nightmares, I’m in an old building. It’s a school building. The school changes every time but it’s always an old school building. I’m at the top floor. Alone. I can hear everyone downstairs, outside, having fun, I want to join them but I can’t get down. 

Because it’s an old building, the stairs are all wooden, they’re all broken. Every time I put my foot in front, pieces will break off. In some dreams, the stairs don’t end. In some dreams, the stairs stop abruptly and there’s either a railing or a wall in the middle. I’d either have to jump to the next flight of stairs or look around elsewhere. Sometimes, the building shakes when I move. You see, I’m afraid of heights. So, a lot of times, I just curl up and cry until I wake up. I wake up in tears, exhausted from fighting, from feeling stuck.

Last night, I had another episode. Anxiety to me feels like I can’t breathe and I’m stuck and I can’t do anything. I’m afraid of doing anything because I’m afraid of hurting the people around me and I’m afraid of failure. But I forget myself.

I had these plans, where I would start looking for jobs in the middle of August, try to secure interviews by first week of September, and then maybe start work mid-September or early October. Planning helps with my anxiety. If I ever feel lost, at least I have my planner and it tells me what I wanted to do. Of course, I try not to put too much. Just one simple task to accomplish a day. Or a week. Whichever makes me feel comfortable but never over-worked.

I was supposed to send out resumes to vet clinics this week. Yesterday, Monday, I was supposed to write my cover letter. But for the last 2 weeks, every time I talk about finding a job, I get mixed reactions from my family members. My mom, my brother, my grandmother don’t want me to work so soon. They’d say I haven’t been home long enough. They’d say I wouldn’t have this freedom anymore. But truth be told, I spent the last 2 months trying to rest and I haven’t felt rested at all. I feel stuck. I feel suffocated.

I was going back and forth yesterday, wondering if I should send out my resumes this week or just call it off, push it back another week. I was leaning more towards calling it off but I wasn’t happy with that decision. That’s not what I wanted to do but I felt guilty. Then, I got a text from a veterinarian I met a few months ago, asking if I’ve found a job yet. I told him, “No, I’m still looking. Why? Do you know anyone who is hiring?” He said, “Yes, I have a friend in Puchong looking for a junior vet. I think you would be perfect for the job.”

The vet and I exchanged numbers. I was so happy! I thought to myself, is this a sign? I’ve been feeling so unsure about going forward with my life. I really wanted to but I wasn’t sure. If this isn’t a sign, I don’t know what is.

When I told my mom, she says, “That’s good news. But it means I won’t have you around for long.”

Guilt clouds all over me again. I can’t breathe. I was feeling a lot of things. Sad. Guilty. Angry. Confused. Stuck. My tears flowed non-stop for over an hour. I couldn’t speak. That’s my anxiety.

Then I spent the entire night talking to my best friend from vet school, Delna. Then I talked to my boyfriend, Yie. They both made me feel better. And then I listened to a podcast by Gina Ryan. She said that the first problem with mental health is addressing it. Whether it's depression or anxiety, address it. Only once you acknowledge it, you can fight it.

Today I woke up from the same nightmare. Except today, I fought harder. I found a flight of concrete stairs and I took it. I ran back and forth looking for concrete stairs until I reached downstairs. I finally got out of the building and I end up in sea water, by the beach. On the beach stood Yie, mouthing the words, “I love you.”

I know now what those nightmares meant. The old school building was my vet school. The broken wooden stairs were the struggles I went through, the trauma of being recalled for oral exams. Me feeling stuck and unable to move is my anxiety.

Now that I’ve addressed it, it’s time to fight it.

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