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 It has become like a ritual to write on the 4th of every month, I started this blog on the 4th of January,  the last two times I wrote was on Oct 4th and November 4th and here we are now, December 4th. I cannot believe that it is already December 4th. I think most of us are still stuck in March and have not exactly had as sense of how so much time has passed by, despite so much happening in these past few months. It sort of feels like we're living in Miss Havisham's house from Great Expectations, a novel by Charles Dickens. I always found it so peculiar how the time stopped in her home the moment her wedding was cancelled. I always thought it was rather an interesting way to put in a concept like that. It's like she lost all sense of time after that moment, everything stopped for her in that moment when she received that letter. It also shows her inability to move on from what has happened to her and so she tried to stop time from moving on and hence made the all the clocks stop in her home. But merely stopping the clocks doesn't really stop the time from moving. 

But that is the thing that is worrying isn't it, time doesn't wait for us, actually I think it is one of the things that is causing me so much worry. On the one hand there has been an absolute lack of will to do anything and on the other the time is fleeting by so fast leaving me with a whole lot of anxieties springing up every moment and my family doesn't seem to be exactly helping me in that department, if anything they have been a tremendous source of anxiety in the past few months. So it has been rather difficult to sail through all this, it is sort of like a battle field where all you have is a broken shield to protect yourself from getting wounded by the arrows of anxiety being shot at you, and each time an arrow hits you, you take time to pull that arrow out and struggle to get up and move forward trying to catch up with the racing chariot of time. 

I feel perhaps there are different versions of me, one that my parents have, one that I have and one that my friends and others have of me and they aren't exactly aligning. the one that my father has of me, is probably the worst version of me, with the one that my mother has being a close contender and my own being a third which I would say is dynamic and ever changing and then there are the good ones of my partner, my siblings and my friends and others. When I come into contact with family I am forced to face the horrible versions of myself and it cripples me, and I start viewing myself like that, it's when my partner, my siblings, my therapist and my friends hold up a mirror to show me that it's a lot better than what it is in my head do I get the strength to step forward. 

I didn't mean to sound quite so depressing actually when I set out to write this morning but somehow it seems to have taken a sad turn. Well the truth is I am filled with so much anxiety and restlessness, so eager to d something, although I don't quite know what that 'something' is. At the beginning of this year I had set out to achieve something this year and really complete something whether it was my PhD or writing a book, or perhaps a course in some form of therapeutic techniques, add a few feathers to my cap. While I may have added a few feathers to my cap, they haven't exactly been what I wanted to do at the beginning of this year. I wanted this year to be one of those years where I set a goal for myself and achieve it, and I tried to be as realistic as possible but somehow I seem to have fallen short. Currently I have this gnawing voice at the back of my head that tells me you still have a month, you could achieve at least one of the things you wanted to or at least in part. At one point that voice was annoying but in retrospect I feel maybe that voice isn't so bad after all and maybe I should listen to it. And so I have been trying to listen to that voice hence this attempt to put my thoughts into words. Let's hope I continue to have the will and courage to listen to this voice.

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