I was thinking maybe I have Bipolar Disorder because of my rapid change of mood everyday. One time, I’ve read an article about this disorder that notifies that rapidly changing moods or becoming angry or sad easily is not Bipolar. People with Bipolar Disorder do not change emotions quickly; they go through long periods of deep depression followed by long periods of mania or elevated mood. Long periods mean weeks or months or years and it affects everything about you: your energy level, self esteem, sleep patterns, appetite, sexuality and emotional response. So my case is plain and simple as it may sound – just “having emotions.”

I really don’t know what’s happening with me. I have grown into a person who is brilliant in complicating things and poor in simplifying things. Well, maybe I’m so much like my father. I am exactly his female replica. I remember him talking about how he muddled through life and struggled to get through it. Oh well, nobody gets out of life anyway. Maybe the reason why he died of cancer which causes are all stress or anxiety related. Why do people smoke or get drunk or take drugs anyway? It’s because they believe that smoking, drinking and taking drugs can somehow temporarily allow them to forget how it feels to be stressed and anxious about life.

Yes, the Bible mentioned about worries and fears and what’s the right perception about them. Yet, sometimes when you try to bow down your head to pray it feels like the Holy Spirit isn’t there and you end up broken, confused and distressed. Maybe, aside from the spiritual struggle, I just miss the comfort and love of a home. So the Bipolar Disorder I was thinking is actually the sad thing we call Nostalgia. Yes, maybe I’m just not that brave to admit that I’m not as hardcore as what my father thought I was. That I’m not as independent and cold as he thought I was. That once in our lives, no matter where life will take us, we will always long for a place called home. It’s true, our ambitions and minds may take us far, but home is where the heart is. Maybe this is why I’m so unfocused and ordinary, why I’m writing this instead of reading for my exam tomorrow, because I’ve spent half of my life away from my family.

I’m going home… and honestly, it hurts just to think I’m going home for the first time without a father waiting at the doorstep. After all the longing of being home and after realizing I can’t hug my father again, suddenly, it feels like I’m not really ready to go home.