When time moves faster than time itself.

Sometimes time seems to go faster than time itself. Things can change so quickly, you can get startled or shocked when you realise how long it has been since that one time. It can be a scary thing. I know i've been scared by time. Life is a fleeting moment. And at the end of it all, what are we left with?

Sometimes i feel like i shouldn't be alive. Medically - I could have died already, a few times over. But here I am writing a blog that maybe just a few people will read. I'm breathing. Blood is still pumping through my veins. This is usually a very liberating feeling, that I bet the demon that was once controlling my entire life - but it was only a year or so ago where i was held captive by my own mental jail. It really does catch me off guard sometimes, this feeling of ''I could be dead''. That feeling of remembering who i once was, and what i once thought and did. I can spend a long time in tears just remembering what happened. It isn't something i'll ever be able to forget and i think because of my past intensity of existence, it will always remain a part of me.

What am i talking about, what is this past existence from just a year ago? The reality was me spending days in bed, so high that time didn't exist. It was me popping pills to the point of no return and being hospitalised when a friend learnt of my state. Of watching the heart rate moniters in hospital dive from 220bpm to 60bpm in a matter of a second. A period of my life where i didn't know why i was alive, nor did i want to be. I felt like a burden, and I know now more than ever, that i was.

And now, here I am in Auckland - living a great life. Pretty happy in general, wanting to serve others more than ever. Filled with passion and enthusiasm.

It is really hard for me to get my head around this really fast transition from dark to light - and that is why I sometimes get stuck outside of it all, narrating my own life. Because it is that surreal. It is not a very enjoyable thing to do. It's almost like rembereing about my own death - or rembereing my own birth. Both perhaps at the same time - it is hard as stone to digest.

It is mad.

While i do not think it is very productive to think of that past too much, it is not in my control sometimes. It can be as easy as thinking of a friend from back in that time of my life - and a thousand thoughts will come back to me, those of that i thought of back then. Or maybe viewing a photograph.

I used to smile and laugh - but it was only an act of my muscles, not of my soul. I can see in photographs from that miserable part of my life that my eyes and smiles were as empty as my soul felt.

I look back on myself in wonder. How did things change so quickly! Sometimes the change is just too much to beleive and I think that maybe it's not real. But it is real. Because my eyes, my heart, my soul and my life is real now. Before i was just a puppet playing out the lines as defined by my health. Now I am real.

That's what scares me, how time can blend and mould.  How the only time that is real is the present. This very second. That's all we have.

Make it worth it. I know I am.

Dr. Nourozi: Prescription: watch your time, count your blessings.