(This letter is reproduced here and edited lightly, with the permission of my beloved wife.)
Couldn’t sleep, because guess what – the words are back! True, it’s the middle of the night, but the good thing about being in a 24/7 ward is that there’s always someone around. And since it’s a psych ward, the excuse that I can’t sleep till I write is…. real.
I miss you. So much it does hurt, but you know what? I smiled in my sleep just now. Out of sheer gratitude over something as simple as being able to wake up and feel light. LIGHT! I don’t feel that heaviness that’s been plaguing me since the few weeks ago. And the words are back, they’re gloriously back.
I don’t know – or care – whether this is really due to the meds. I’ve been holding everything in for too, too long. Our pastor prayed for me, and rebuked me, that I’ve been going on my own strength for too long. I need to relearn how to rely on God. It’s been way too long since I prayed so sincerely, asking for God to help me. I hated coming to the ward upstairs. I hated the lack of freedom. But I don’t regret this time, even if the hardest thing I’ve had to do was to be cut off from you after 20 years. I don’t know how to over-emphasise the lightness of being. It’s finally possible to understand joy again, to smile without the dark pain lurking behind my eyes. I know this is only the start of recovery, but I’m optimistic realistically.
I don’t know how you put up with me. I don’t feel stupid and I shouldn’t feel guilty but I owe you an apology for putting you through the darkness yet again. Perhaps I haven’t learnt. Perhaps I need to learn, how better not to bottle my emotions, even as I release myself through writing. I can’t even promise I will learn. But I promise to never let you go again, or to hide my plans from you again, if the darkness returns. At least I have proven to myself, and to you, that help, even if coerced, is within reach in Singapore.
I love you. And thank you for loving me.