Musing for the New Year

Two weeks into the new year, I began to experience the onslaught of stress.

In the dead of night, I tossed and turned in bed, feeling fidgety.  Even when I had sunken into sleep, I would wake up with a start one to two hours later, shocked to have realized that I had unconsciously bitten my own tongue in my sleep.

When roaming in town, I easily felt drained and tired.  As I nursed my drink at table in a coffee shop, watching pedestrians and traffic go by, I would wonder at the irrevocability of life.  At this thought all sorts of unpleasant memories would assail me, making me want  to scream. Then, nausea got the better of me, making me dry heave and rush to the toilet, vomiting out whatever I had compulsively wolfed down. That done, at the faucet, watching the reflection of my flushed face in the mirror as I rinsed my mouth, self-hate rose from within me.  My right ear, as if punctured, hissed sharply as usual.  Nothing could shut it out.

At home, I did a futile job in trying to read. While reading a book, I felt compelled to finish it, and ended up losing interest. I picked up another book, only to find it as bland as the previous one. Sometimes, midway through, I slipped into a deep sleep, and woke up finding that the book had fallen from my hands, making me lose the thread I had left off.

How would I fare at my new station? I dread losing my integrity and sinking into trouble again. To blend into the circle of my new colleagues, should I discard some of my old-self? Would everything backfire like usual if it slip out of my control?

God, give me the wisdom of discernment. For a long time, I have been seesawing between sticking to my principle and conforming to the crowds.