When you are a married woman seeking psychiatrist help for depression, I can assure you that the first zillion questions you get would be about your husband. Apparently husbands drive their wives crazy. Ha ha ha. I hope you will be answering all those questions truthfully, no holding back. The doctor needs to know to help you out. In my case, I am purely hormonal, my husband did nothing wrong. Neither did my boss. Or anyone around me. I was just out of balance. In my friend’s words, “You nak meroyan pun tak layak.” Um yeah, she has a point.
I cursed myself for not having enough time to yank Ina’s hand when I tumbled down the rabbit hole. It was my first time, and annoying though she is, it always helped to have someone else going through first-times with you. Now that I cursed myself for not having enough time to yank Ina’s hand when I tumbled down the rabbit hole. It was my first time, and annoying though she is, it always helped to have someone else going through first-times with you. Now that I’m down here, I don’t know what to do! Oh, Ina would have known what to do. She’s so smart. With her books and brushes and all. She’s so smart. I am clever too. With my books and brushes and all. I am clever too. Only, now, I don’t really know what to do.
Going through this is much like tumbling down that rabbit-hole, not knowing what is there at the end and hoping there is someone with you to tell you. Depression saw half of my support system crumbled into pieces. What I believed to be the strongest to hold me together was proven to be imaginary, disappeared into thin air like that cheshire cat, and for the first time in my adult years I questioned myself and my confidence. I spent days wondering if I said something wrong, or if my acts are inappropriate.
By my third trimester, I was subjected to anti-depressant. Half a tablet by 8 pm daily. My husband’s cousin had a good laugh hearing it, saying I now look like those mentally ill people in movies, storing meds in a cabinet in the bathroom. I had laughed too. Some seconds later she took the words back saying I might be laughing outside but who knows I was mentally strangling her in my head. I still laughed. Because no, I didn’t imagine so. It’s good to have someone who makes joke about it, a change to the whole uptight atmosphere.
“Maybe I should change the tea party theme to ‘Batman’. You can come as Two-Faced.”
I watched the smile faded from Cheshire’s face. The first time I must have seen him without that annoying smile. For a brief second, he looked like a normal, old cat. Not a floating, appearing-disappearing one.
And then the smile returned. More coy than before.
“Well, aren’t you too the same, Alice? Hiding your ugly monstrous face behind your black ribbon and golden hair; aren’t you the same too? Isn’t that why you ended up here, of all places? The Wonderland.”
Through this time I must have talk to myself a lot more than I do in general. I discover things I didn’t know was there in me. The uglies. Behind all those cheerful, bright face, I too have an ugly side. It scared me. It saddened me. But I learned this time to make peace with it.
That it is OK to not be Wonderful.
Because you are not, too.
..to be continued