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.

Volunteering and Depression

Volunteering to any group that serves the community is one suggestion I read that helps combat Depression. I did just that. I volunteered.

Volunteering is not new to me. It was my world back in college when I was the president of the student council. It continued until I graduated and started working at my first job. I even headed a group of volunteers that helped build communities. Helping out, reaching out, and giving my time, resources, and almost all of me was my life. Then it died. That part in me passed away.

It just died. Slowly, I guess. It died without me knowing that it already passed away. I just started feeling aloof to my fellow volunteers. Seeing or working with them was not something I got excited about when before, being with them and working for a GREATER purpose was what fueled me.

Being somehow "anti-social," I later learned, was something usual for people who are Depressed. We would tend to shy away from social gatherings. Things that you used to love doing started feeling bland and so senseless.

Anyway, God is good. I was given the opportunity to volunteer to an organization that is somehow new to me. It's an organization that advocates for providing assistance to public school teachers, principals, and other stakeholders. For a start, I, together with my friends, participated in the Brigada Eskwela - a government initiative that aims to gather Filipinos to help their local public schools by cleaning up the classrooms, painting blackboards, chairs, and tables, beautifying and getting the school prepared for the upcoming June classes of many young Filipinos.

The event reminded me of what I was before - eating at the most unideal place, and getting sweaty and dirty because of too much working building houses. I loved that feeling. I relived it during that moment when I was painting classroom chairs and eating at a not very good place to eat - somewhere stinky and hot.

It was a reality check for me. The entire event where there were public school teachers, parents, pupils, and other volunteers helping out one another to make the school somehow exciting, reminded me that there is so much in the world that has more serious problems than what I am actually experiencing. It humbled me. It grounded me. It reminded me that, outside my dark world is a world that actually reaches out for me and tells me to get out of my dark world and experience light in the midst of a reality filled with chaos, uncertainty, insecurity, and even hopelessness. And in this, find my own light and hope.

Existential question

I'm not such a fan of life. This is what I've been thinking since... I don't know. It just crossed my mind.

Oh maybe, it's because of the TV series "The Walking Dead." I've seen characters there that would just choose to give up and end their own lives. I see myself in those characters. In that TV series, everything around the living characters seems lifeless and hopeless. They would do everything and anything just to survive. It is literally, "the survival of the fittest." And not just physically fit, it's mentally and emotionally fit that is required of the living. 

That TV series reminds us of what really matters in life. All material things that people would work hard for, could just be put to waste when the inevitable happens. It also subtly tells us how our skills in this 21st century, such as farming in our gadgets, tapping things to control things (sounds funny, eh), cooking using electricity, and watching TV or listening to the radio as forms of entertainment MAY not be enough to keep us alive. 

The cave man lifestyle, which is already alien to us, seems ideal if we want to survive. There's the need to learn to farm using our body so we can have food to eat, to know how to hunt, and to produce fire using stones (maybe?), and so many things to learn so we can still be alive when a plague like that in TV series happens in our world. Or maybe it's starting to happen. I just don't know where. Maybe I am too concerned about my selfish and shallow problems to even care about more serious problems such as hunger, war, and poverty. 

My point is, when everything just seems dead, would you continue living or struggle to survive? 

Bad days

It's a fact that for anyone living, there are good days and there are, of course, bad days.

For these bad days, many can just shrug it off and continue with their lives. 

But for those Depressed, multiply by 10 the "badnesss" the "normal" people feel. That's how bad it is. This is one thing I learned from my therapist. For the Depressed, the pain the patient feels is more than what the mentally healthy people feel. I cannot even qualify the word more. Of course, it varies. But the point is, the pain for the Depressed is not the way it is for those who are mentally healthy. It's not being weak. It's not even being too sensitive. It's just the way it is. That's why there are pills that help us feel a little stronger, less sensitive, more calm.

But for days when pills are not enough and negative thoughts just overpower the happy ones and start eating the system until it's become impossible for the Depressed to function, I can say, it's important that that feeling is acknowledged.

Acknowledge the heavy feeling that does not seem easy to control. Slow down for a bit. Be not afraid to think of nothing and stare at nothingness. Listen to your body. Breathe.

When it doesn't help. And when you know you cannot help yourself, go ask a friend to accompany you to do something happy. Go somewhere serene, somewhere filled with greenery. A simple nature walk relaxes your brain. Malling or going somewhere noisy and crowded might not help for it might add stress.

Have a good cry. If you really feel like crying, cry. A good cry also includes expressing your feelings. You can talk to God or to your friend - a human or even an animal (your pet dog, aquarium fish, etc.) It's very therapeutic.

If none of these helps, go visit your therapist.