Writing and Pain

For the past three months, I have been avoiding writing here. I felt that I was too happy or too calm that I would not be able to write something sensible or something worth reading.

The truth is, in August of last year, I relapsed. I had to return to a more intensive medication. Stress from work and a major adjustment in my personal relationship with someone very special triggered my depression.

The events that took place after the relapse are now vague to me. All I remember is that people close to me made an effort to make me feel heard, attended to, and given time. You see, before that, I felt I was an invisible person who they think is unshakeable and just oh so strong.

Why did I have to express my desire to die before these people noticed that something was terribly wrong with me?

I do not wish to know the answer.

Anyway, right now, I am feeling cool and calm. Except for my really terrible cough and sore throat, everything seems a-okay.

I sometimes attribute this calmness to my prescribed medicines that of course, fight anxiety and depression. Aside from that, I am starting to think and feel that, there's really nothing that I can control in this world except for my feelings. I can control my anger, my disappointment, and any negative feeling. Of course, that's not possible through my powers alone. I know that somewhere around me or in me, there's someone that teaches me how to accept things that I do not have control over.

As I said, everything seems a-okay except for this really terrible cough and sore throat.  Actually, it is these physical sufferings that prompted me to write again here.

I am in too much physical pain right now that it is this sickness when I got to say "I want to die than suffer this much." Yes, the suffering is too much that sometimes I can't bear it.

Oh, these are all random ramblings. You know what they say about some writers who write best when they are in pain? I think I am one of those writers.

I am not saying though that this writing is one of my best. It's just that I can easily express myself when I am in too much pain.

What it takes

"Silent steady strength" This is my take away from the mass held at the college chapel. 

My happy distraction

In the midst of my current inner turmoil, my niece and nephew seem to be God sent to distract me by tickling me. My almost effortless "exaggerated" reaction to their tickling already gives them so much laughter. And suddenly I remember to be happy at life's simplest joy - children's laughter.

Company in Loneliness

One of the things that make me happy as a clinically depressed patient is when I get to see that I am not alone in my struggle. There's this FB group based in the Philippines that made me feel less alone. Although we are only friends virtually, I still feel comforted to know that there are those that can actually understand the illness. We share articles on how to cope with Depression or anything at all that would help any one of us in any way possible.

One of the latest articles that was shared is this - http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/08/26/depression-frustrations_n_5692649.html

In this article, the writer simplified the many things that only people with depression could understand, such as, the meaning of "snap out of it" and how it is one of the most irritating statements often said by those who don't understand this illness.

But there's one statement in this article that I can relate the most - "There is no such thing as a little victory."

It went on saying that "There are no little victories because every accomplishment is a big victory." The simple act of getting up from the bed is already an accomplishment for me. I can totally relate and it actually feels good to know that that simple act should be treated as a big victory.

The past few weeks have not been very good to me. I literally drag myself out of the bed, choose repetitive old clothes for work, drive my way out of the apartment, walk towards the classroom, and face students as if everything's perfectly fine inside me. There's a lot of pretending or acting that I have been doing. But every time that I get to finish a day's work - I totally, totally, congratulate myself for it. Now, it feels good to know that what I do - congratulating myself - is actually a good thing.


There are many other websites that will surely help. But belonging to a group, even if it's only through a Facebook group, makes fighting Depression less lonely.

Two deaths in One day

Definitely not everyone understands mental illnesses. Surely, not all the time we can explain ourselves - about our mental illness, our struggles, our fights, and the stigma we have to live with - that we are weak, we just lack attention, or worse, we are crazy.

This reality about our struggle has what probably made Robin Williams and one college student take their own lives. This news about what seems to be apparent cases of suicide happened in one day. Two deaths in one day had to make sense to me in the midst of my crazy and heavy work demands.

Reports of suicide because of severe, mild or even clinical depression bother me a lot. It bothers me in the sense that in this noisy but lonely world, there's always that one person who we know or not know, that has to go through all the difficult processes of fighting depression. It bothers me to know that this person is even known to make people happy. It bothers me to know that there's probably nobody making him happy when he needs a slice of happiness. It bothers me that seemingly, there will never be a solution to mental illnesses. It bothers me that there's no choice but to struggle. And when the person gives up, he or she would be called weak. And in death, that person is still negatively judged - this bothers me! How cruel the world can be.

Suffering in Silence

So I am not really in the mood to write. But I will still write.

I will write about how acting like you're not ill helps.

My mother told me this once before. She told me to act, think, and speak like I am okay. Well, those are not her exact words. But I fathom that that is what she meant.

At that time, I did not take it well. But now, I think, it is making sense.

Yes I am diagnosed with clinical depression. But nobody has to suffer because I am suffering from this. If I am not feeling good, no one needs to know and be affected. Of course, seeking help will surely help. But it is NOT ALL the time that we should seek help. There are moments that I am sure, we can pretty well handle our moods and feelings.

I think, in a way, this kind of attitude towards our illness is somehow being a Christian, a follower of Jesus. It is suffering in silence. And maybe, offering that silent suffering to cure someone else, to save those souls that need to be saved will make our illness make sense, serve a purpose. 

a pat on my back

It only took me to switch on my bedside lamp that sets the mood for me to sleep for me to realize that I deserve a pat on my shoulder for trying very hard to take good care of myself.

The bedside lamp with yellow light sorts of put my brain onto sleep mode. And sleep is very important for me, to have a really good mood upon waking up.

I looked around me and saw my aquarium that is a house for my six angel fish. Their living presence makes me feel I am not totally alone. I am not the only living in my room.

Then there's the sign mounted on my wall that says, "Courage." This one word that also serves a decor for my room always reminds me to continue fighting and choosing life.

That part of my self that pushes my mind and body to continue training for my 5K run also deserves acknowledgment. I am on my 2nd week of training. I do it with the help of an app, #nikeplus.

I may not have the full support of my family and loved ones in this battle, but I have me. I think that should be enough. My family doesn't believe in my condition. My special someone doesn't believe in therapies. I know I cannot control what they think about what I am going through. But why should I focus on making them one with my battle when I know it's a hopeless case? I think my doctor cousin who tries hard to understand me, listen to me and support me in my medication and therapies should be enough for me to remain strong. And most of all, though I do not feel Him that much these past few months, I know I have Him and He will never abandon me.