Memoirs of an Amnesiac

I'm claustrophobic. I have a fear for enclosed places. I'm so glad I don't have to work in places where I need to endure the elevators. This fear came up when my brother and I played hide and seek and I hid inside one of our cramped cabinets (an antique heirloom my father inherited from his mother). Because of my brother's uncanny playfulness, he locked me inside that cabinet, thus my gnawing fear for enclosed places.

Whenever I am inside any enclosed place, I feel my heart racing a notch faster than it normally does. I am most of the time out of breath. Elevators with spacious insides do not necessarily asphyxiate me now but those that are cramped still gives me this gnawing feeling.

It is with this reason that I had my former room purposely custom made because of this dread. It is so spacious that it has two huge windows (because I love windows) and a rather high ceiling with a spacious flooring, too. My friend once told me it could fit three people. Whenever I feel like it, I would dance inside, especially when no one is watching.

That was my room until my brother got married and had to move in with his family. I guess, one forgets oneself where family is concerned. I had to overcome my dread for enclosed places to give way to more pressing matters as welcoming a nephew to our brood. Even when my brother had not forced me to move out, I volunteered. I just couldn't risk seeing them all cramped in my brother's old room.

So, here I am, enduring all this cramped space. I feel like a lone sardines trapped in a can sometimes. I miss the old view from my windows since my brother only had one window. For some reason boys are not so sentimental with views.

Sometimes, in life, you will soon let go of things you most hold dear to give way to more important things. Even when it is at the expense of your own satisfaction and comfort, you need to let it go.

I miss my old room. I miss dancing there even. But I still dance in my new room. This time with limited movements...