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  • after years of being Asian and refusing to believe in the necessity of psychiatry, today i finally admitted it was time i seek some professional help. there wasn't really one thing that triggered it -- really, it was more a series of events:

  • a lunch with a friend who mentioned she couldn't be happily married today were it not for the help of her psychiatrist. then slipped me his card at the restaurant in midtown.

  • unexpectedly meeting a boy i fancied, but doing it all in the wrong order.

  • agonizing over the fact that i did it all in the wrong order, as i usually do.

  • lamenting about it with a girlfriend over a few strong beers, who asked the hard question: "why are you so afraid to want more?" to which i had no answer.


  • that question plagued me all through the day. why couldn't i admit want more than just a hook-up? was it because i was afraid it wouldn't come true? was it because i don't think i deserve to want it, or get it?

    or is my heart just weary? have all the single girl stories, the marred marriages, the twisted relationships and dysfunction finally worn my hope down to its thinnest, most threadbare state?

    all i know, is that i now vacillate between moments of brimming hope, and moments of heavy-heartedness. and it's not ok. i never knew exactly what i wanted to be when i grew up, but i knew i did NOT want to be a cynic.

    so cheers, Dr. Schaeffer. here's hoping you're in the business of psychiatry and hope.
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