Walking on thin ice

People have been telling me to be careful.

I try to be. Honestly.

But it's not like I can filter out every single second of every single day I go through and only keep the moments that doesn't need me to practise constant vigilance.

Walking on thin ice is dangerous and I know it.

And so do most of the people around me.

I suppose that's why there are so many eyes watching me.

They like to think they're discreet but I feel their scutiny.

Sense them watching my every move, calculating when exactly is the precise moment to step in.

Some people like my parents watch me too much, too hard.

That they read signs that are non-existent and words in between every line that are bogus.

Even if I show the slightest crack, they panic and quickly step in no matter how much I insist that it's just a crack.

Just a teeny crack - nothing I can't fix with plaster.

I feel stifled sometimes by their never ceasing scrutiny.

They may not be outright about it, but I still feel them watching me closely.

It's like as though they are afraid something would happen.

I don't blame them.

2006 was one of the roughest years, not only for me but for them as well.

It's just that I wish they'd trust me more.

My sister observes as well.

But she watches me from afar.

She gives me that little bit of trust to sort out my own shit.

But then again, maybe she's just not that kind of person to outrightly say it out.

There are others out there who watch me.

Make sure I don't go overboard.

I appreciate that they're doing that simply because I don't do that for myself as often as I should.

I know without all these people watching over me, I could spin out of control.

And fall down into the icy water below.

It happened once and the water almost drowned me.

Almost.

I did contract hypothermia and that almost destroyed me.

Again, almost.

Going through it once was horrible enough but going through it twice, I don't think I can handle that.

As much as I've gotten over the hypothermia and my body is now safely back at normal temperature,

it's not something I can do over again.

I can't handle another fall.

I can't deal with another major catharsis.

Yet, the ice I'm walking on is thinning.

And I'm so afraid that even with all the people watching, the ice will still break and I'll fall.

You know how some people fear death?

It used to be something I fear a lot.

All alone in a literal hole in the ground, it scared me.

Still does come to think of it.

Just not as badly as it used to.

Now, I fear the ice breaking and me falling.

That point where gravity sucks me down and there's no turning back.