Dear God

Why do I have to live with a mind often stricken by anxiety attacks? Why do I have to be over anxious about a lot of things, especially when it comes to people closest to my heart? Why do I have to be over responsible to those whom I served? Why do I have to be like this, always begging you to protect my loved ones, always trying to think things ahead of what is actually happening? Why do I have to be speculative and contemplative? Why do I value life, that much that I tend to sacrifice my own for the sake of people I love?



This afternoon, I had two anxiety attacks. I tend to estimate the time of arrival of people I meet. It seems like I have this built-in calculator where, I know the distance of two locations in reference of time. My bud arrived 15 minutes late, and it did made me tremble. Perhaps because there is no means to contact him and adjust my time estimation. I prayed to you to keep him safe. So far, you did protect him. And it made my heart really really relieved to see him arrive home.



When he left home, I accompanied him up to a quarter of his journey. I made sure he ride the transpo that would take him directly to his home. Again, I did my time estimation. I gave him one hour to arrive there... yes, I did consider the traffic, especially this season. But when he did not contact me an hour after we parted, I reverted back to my anxiety mode - puffing a malboro to contain the attacks; Trying to call his phone even if his sister is already pissed off with my 10-minute interval calls.



I gave him around 30 minutes to reply. I took a bath, read the old newspapers, lighted up a candle, just like what they plead on the television and looked at the sky, while I was again asking for your protection, I was already changing my clothes to go out andflag a taxi to trace the route of his FX, when I finally recieved his text. I was so madly obsessed of making sure he's safe that I'm willing to go all the way to the north just to make sure I'll be around if anything happens.



In fact, I even gave him Doland Castro's calling card. You know, just in case since he don't have with him any identification cards. Of course there was no connection between me and the card, but at the back of my mind, at least he have a sort of powerful identification with him. In fact, I want to talk to sonny as to where I can find a trader who does those identification thingie all soldiers have to wear. He has one, and I'm itching to give something like that to my bud. I'm sure, this is an overkill, but I can't help but keep myself wary, and worried because I know, he's in my jurisdiction. I tend to take responsibilities to people I've met... and worse, do mad things just to ensure that they'll leave my sphere safe and secure.



I know Lord, I'm a psycho. I am an obsessive compulsive, anxiety prone person. In fact, I think if I'm straight, I'll be a nice husband (of course, I was a shit too before Lord, you taught me a great lesson about relationship during my second one). But... why do I have to be like this? Why do I have to complicate my life by claiming responsibility to others, when in fact, none of my friends or acquaintances think like I do.



And you know what, to ensure that mom has always an assistant in school, I am even willing to pay up for her volunteer. Buying her a wheelchair was also some sort of pacifier on my part. Just to keep myself sane, I am willing to do that. As long as I could remember, I've been this way. I've been so damn protective that my straight friends before even complained that I treat them like women.



Perhaps because I am really afraid to be guilty of something or to oversee things, which might have been prevented. You know that I've always talked to you because of this fear. You know that I did get mad at you when you allowed mom to slip in the toilet and let her head bleed. One day, when we get to finally meet. I'd be very happy to talk to you about how my life went because of this. I'd be very grateful if you'd tell me why my mind thinks like this.



I guess by now, no psychiatrist can help me on this one. No mortal can give someone complete security right? Thanks for listening. I know, this has been a hard time for me. There's a lot of things still to worry about, but I could face those worries tomorrow. Thanks for answering my plea this evening and allowing my bud to reach home safe. I know, he's puzzled as to why I was frantic when I called him. In fact, he's beginning to absorb those quirky traits that I have. Thanks again, I'll pray to you next time.



This has been a very exhausting day. But I'm happy that you allowed me to show how much I truly love my man.